I rummage through my backpack; Wyatt had thought of everything. Three water bottles, a first aid kit, a rope, a blanket, a mini tent, some food, money, and other important survival needs are stuffed into the backpack's pockets.
"Are you ok?" Wyatt asks me with a look of concern.
"Why?"
"Well for starters, you just had to run away from home, and you didn't get any sleep last night after we jumped on the train."
"I don't need sleep," I reply, which isn't a lie. I never really get tired, one time I never slept for a whole week.
"What are you? Superhuman? You don't sleep, and you have no emotions."
"I've told you already, I don't cry. Never have, never will," I have no memory of me crying. I've always kept my emotions inside of me, I don't like people seeing me in a vulnerable state.
Wyatt gives me a weird look, but says nothing else. Eventually, out of boredom, the shaking of the train lulls me to sleep.
YOU ARE READING
Control (On Hold)
Teen FictionWhen Connie's parents are both murdered inside of her house, she knows something is seriously wrong. She can't get the last words that her dad had ever said out of her mind. "Remember Honey, whatever happens, don't let anyone control you. You have a...
