Changed (DISCONTINUED)

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

I stood there in silence for an entire minute, nearly blacking out from shock. The phone kept repeating words in the background, but they were inaudible to me. My hands went cold and froze. One frozen at my side, one frozen on the phone. Suddenly, I felt more alone than I ever had before. Not free, and not alone in a good way. I felt like I had no one to rely on anymore. Realizing how cold I was turning, I snapped back into reality and picked up the phone. I tried to make out the words my aunt was saying.

"Hello? Hello? Mikayla? Are you still on the phone?"

I quickly tried to think of a reply so she wouldn't hang up.

"Uhhhh... yes. I'm still here."

"Where are you currently?" She asked.

"I'm-I'm at Pushkin park."

"Sweetie, if you're still there, please go home, pack everything you can, and catch the next bus to Brovary to get to my house. I want to help you."

"Okay, I'll be there in-"

Hey voice cut me off, "Great, I'll see you soon."

And the line stopped with a beep. I set down my phone and sat down, trying to comprehend this. So, my parents... are... dead? It's not like I was happy, but I wasn't sad. I was supposed to be sad but I was fine. You're definitely not supposed to be fine if your parents die! Why couldn't I feel anything? It wasn't natural for me to feel this way. I was supposed to be crying my eyes out right now, but no tears came. In fact, nothing came. No feelings, no tears, nothing. It was like I was broken.

I decided I had no time to figure this out, so I ripped open my notebook, and quickly jotted down,

Bus to Brovary, aunt's house

Not the most detailed note, but it didn't matter. I just needed to remember where to go. I swiftly packed up my notebook, pens, and my phone into my backpack. When I stood up, I grabbed my hot chocolate, and dumped it out on the frosty, cold, concrete walkway. My hands gripped onto the chilly bike handles, and I slipped my backpack strap over my right shoulder. I walked over to a trash can by a tree, and threw my cup away. Then, I jumped onto my large bike, and peddled off, my numb hands holding onto the handlebars like they were the last thing I had.

After 10 minutes of riding, I finally pulled into the driveway of my rickety, old, green, house in Kyiv. I dropped my bike on the gravel, and sprinted to the front door. Fumbling through my pockets, I grabbed my keys, and unlocked the door as fast as I could. I stepped one foot through the doorway, and knew something had changed. I knew that this change wasn't that I was warm. It wasn't even close to that. This was what I wanted, right? I wanted... change. Not like this, though. Despite that, I needed to get going. Maybe if I was quick enough, something might change for the better. Something had to change for the better.

I stepped the rest of the way into the house, and shut the wooden door behind me. I marched through those same halls I roamed for years, and I felt nothing. First, I walked into my room. I felt nothing, again. Secondly, I rummaged through all of my drawers, shelfs, and closets, finding everything I needed. Third, I piled everything in the middle of the ransacked room, and ran down the hall. I stopped in front of the oak door that led down to our basement. I hadn't been in that basement since my parents started fighting and leaving. It reminded me of the day my dad threw a glass bottle at the wall of the basement, right next to my mother and I's heads. I was only 11. Helpless and afraid, that was when the numbness started.

I slowly opened the door, and creaked down the stairs of bad memories. Now, everything feels different. I no longer felt the trauma I had before. But, it still wasn't pleasant down here, so I quickly grabbed a few suitcases and ran up the old staircase.

Once I returned to my room, I shoved everything from the pile into the suitcases. The suitcases may or may not have been overstuffed. But no one was going to know so it's fine.

Lastly, to make sure I hadn't left anything important, I searched the whole room again, grabbing my bus card and money stash. I shoved them into my yellow backpack's smallest pocket, and grabbed all my bags. Then, I brought all the bags to the front door, went through the whole house, and turned off all the lights.

I returned to the front door, and turned over to the coat hooks. I put on gloves, a green bomber jacket, my favorite grey beanie, my combat boots, and my classic purple windbreaker over all of it. It felt like I was leaving everything behind, and abandoning the place I was "raised" in. I guess it didn't really matter anyway, I had no good memories here, but I still felt a sense of betrayal. In an attempt to put everything behind me, I looked over the old house one more time.

I looked over all the thin, chipped hardwood floors, the sand painted walls, and the white, wooden doorways. Would I miss this place? Probably not. But, it still helped to look at it one last time. I had no idea where I was going to go or if I would return here. So, I guess I should take it in.

Finally, I turned, grabbed all my multicolored bags, and opened the door. I was immediately hit with cold, thick, air, since the temperature hadn't changed a lot since earlier. I should've expected this to be honest. I guess their death is finally getting to me.

I pushed that back in my brain, and started walking towards the bus stop. It was a 5 minute walk and the entire time I hummed a song to myself. I don't know what song it is, it just came to mind for some reason. Just as I stopped humming, the bus stop came into sight and the bus was 20 feet behind it. I ran over so I wouldn't miss the bus, and I got there just in time. The bus stopped in front of me, and opened its doors.

"Does this bus go to Brovary?" I questioned the driver.

"Yes, now get on." he said in Ukrainian.

"Thanks."

I climbed over each step with caution, fumbling with my bags to get through the aisles of the bus. Finally, after pushing through all the seats, I sat in an empty seat towards the back of the bus. I slammed my bags on the seat beside me and grabbed some earbuds out of my backpack. By plugging the earbuds into my phone and turning on some music, I was sent into a musical state of calm and relaxing. And slowly, I drifted away from reality. All my worries went away as I looked out the window at passing shops and buildings.

Maybe everything won't turn out as bad as I thought they would.