Number 13 of The List. They do not need to be read in order.
---
She’s standing at edge of the road, and the streetlight is shining down on the top of her head. I can see her perfectly from where I’m sitting, inside a dingy diner on the corner of south street.
She’s waiting for the bus, I can tell, a bag at her feet and her arms wrapped around herself. She’s wearing a sweatshirt, but it’s too cold for just that.
I slip out of the restaurant. My boots sound on the pavement and I know that she can hear me coming but she doesn’t make a move to turn around.
When I’m standing next to her it’s just now that I can see how truly small she is. The top of her head barely comes up to my chest.
“The next bus doesn’t come for another half hour, you know,” I say, conversationally.
The girl’s only reply is the fog of her breath on the night air.
“It might be better for you to wait inside the diner over there.”
Once again, she says nothing.
“Come on, it’ll be my treat.”
She turns and looks up at me.
“I killed a boy,” she says flat out.
There isn’t anything I can do to keep the shock off of my face, I'm sure it’s clearly visible. “You… You did what?”
“I killed him,” she says, turning her face back to gaze down the street. “I reached into his chest and I tore out his heart. And then I ate it.”
I have no idea what to say to this. I don’t think there is any response.
After a moment of silence, I say hesitantly, “I’m going to assume that you’re speaking…. Figuratively?”
She shrugs her shoulder. “Killing someone is killing someone, whether or not they die.”
“That doesn’t make any sense.”
She glances at me again. “It makes perfect sense.”
I let the subject drop.
A car drives by, bathing us in the light of its headlights.
“It’s too cold to be waiting out here,” I say finally.
“I can’t feel anymore anyway, so it doesn’t matter.”
I sigh. “Be that as it may, I’m sure, it would still make me feel a lot better if you at least came inside and had something warm to drink.”
The silence stretches on for so long that I begin to think that she’s going to keep ignoring me, but she suddenly swoops down and picks up her bag, then marches off in direction of the diner. I run to catch up with her.
By the time I am caught up with her she’s already slid into a booth in the diner. I slide into the seat opposite her.
She’s pushed down the hood on her sweatshirt, and I can see that her hair is short, bangs falling across her forehead in short spikes. Her skin looks as though it would be pale under normal light, and the light coming from the overhead lights makes her look positively dead.
The waitress comes over and asks if we want coffee. I nod my head for the both of us, and she fills two mugs with the steaming liquid and, after asking if we need anything else, walks away.
She gazes down into the cup for what seems to be the longest time before picking it up gingerly and taking a sip.
“Where are you going?” I ask, in an attempt to make conversation.
“Everywhere and anywhere,” she says promptly, running a long, slim finger around the edge of her coffee cup.
“And what state is that town in?” I ask, feeling a small smile come over my lips.
“Nowhere.”
Silence .
“And what’s your name, girl who is going Everywhere and Anywhere which is located in the state of Nowhere?”
“I gave up my name when I killed that boy. It no longer exists.”
“I’m sure you didn’t kill him.”
“The look in his eyes after I ate his heart told me otherwise.”
I stay silent for a moment, unsure of what to say.
"Well, my name is Evan."
She doesn't say anything, but finishes off her coffee, and then reaches across the table and takes mine. I don’t protest. She takes a long drink from it, and then sets it down on the table.
I glance outside, and see that there’s a bus waiting at the bus stop. It doesn't look like the bus that usually comes. I nod my head toward it. “your ride is here.”
She looks in the direction I gesture to, and nods. “It is.” She reaches down and picks up her bag, sliding out from the booth. I follow, after hastily throwing a few dollar bills on the table.
The cold air hits me like a bag of cement after the warm interior of the diner. She’s walking quickly down the sidewalk towards the idling bus, which doesn’t seem in a hurry to be on its way.
When she’s almost reached it, I step in front of her. “What are you really running away from?”
She stares up at me, her eyes deep and fathomless. “From everything and anything. And nothing.”
“That isn’t a real answer,” I say, fighting the urge to grind my teeth as she sidesteps around me and continues toward the bus. The doors slide open just as she reaches them.
Before she disappears in the interior of the bus, she turns and looks at me again. To my surprise, she smiles, and in her smile is the answer.
I’m running away from myself.
I am going to get straight into it, because I can, and this is apparently how it works with us.
You have a simplistic but beautiful style and it works magic in this story. Despite the reliance on dialogue, you have a wealth of detail whenever you do take the time to describe something. Beautifully done. The nameless girl especially benefits from this ambiguity and mysterious characterization. And the ending--the ending is what really hooked me. That was extremely well done. I'm just going to make a few comments, all right? You really have it nearly polished up. ^_^
All in all, I really enjoyed this. One thing I would urge you to look into is your usage of static and dynamic description. There are times when I feel you are aiming to create a static moment, like little freeze frames. The narrator commenting that the girl looks a certain way and describing things so matter-of-factly aids with this. But then again, there are times when movements seem fluid and dynamic, mostly when you describe using clearly active voice. This is not necessarily bad, but the largely static description with interjections of dynamic description threw me off slightly. At first, I thought you were aiming for a static setting, but when the dynamic parts came in, I got a little confused. Just something to think about as you are revising. 
