My Little Dove

Chapter 4

"Teresa!" yelled a voice in her ear, "get up!"

Teresa woke with a start. "Wha- what?" She rubbed her eyes. The voice belonged to Bridget.

"Get. Up! Get up now!" Bridget tore the blankets off the bed. "Pack your suitcase right now! Hurry!"

Teresa stood up, her heart racing. "What is going on!?" She threw a hand to her head, she was light-headed.

"What's wrong?" asked Bridget, coming to her.

"Nothing just stood up too fast." Teresa grabbed Bridget's arm. "What is going on?"

Bridget looked at her, her eyes were wide, but full of sadness. "Your aunt and uncle switched your flight to twelve o'clock," she said, there was a pause, "today."

Teresa's eyes widened. It felt as though the walls were closing in on her. "What?! She can't do that!"

"Well, she did!" Bridget said, snapping out of her quietness. "Get dressed, and pack your suitcase!" Bridget sounded like a mother. "Don't worry about Simon, he's up and doing the same thing." Bridget left the room and closed the door.

Teresa stood there shocked; she was leaving LA... Today. She started packing up the things that were lying around her room. "I'm actually just going to bring my violin on the plane." Teresa narrated her every move. "Necklace, on me. This shirt, these shorts, socks, running shoes." After a few minutes, Teresa was all packed up and dressed, she looked around at the boxes in her room. They would come to London on a plane, or a boat. She didn't know exactly how, she only cared that they got to London soon. Teresa grabbed her suitcase, and trudged down the stairs. She saw Bridget and her dad zip around the kitchen grabbing food for the drive, the drive wasn't long, but they didn't have time to eat here.

A moment later, Simon came down the stairs too, dressed and holding his suitcase. "What time is it?" he asked, rubbing his eyes.

Bridget looked over Teresa and Simon. "It's nine o'clock." She walked toward them, bent down and put a hand on Simon's shoulder. "Do you want to go put your suitcase in the car? We'll be right out."

Simon only nodded his head, and walked out the room. Bridget stood up and looked Teresa in the eye. Teresa stood wordless, her mouth dry, and her throat hurt as if she was trying not to cry.

"My dad and I are making some food for the drive," said Bridget, looking at her feet, and then back up at Teresa. "Maybe you should help Simon with his case, it's too heavy for him to lift." Bridget's voice faltered, she sniffled and wiped her eye with her sleeve. Then she turned without a word.

Teresa stood unmoving for a moment, her heart still hammering slowly, but loudly. Her ears rang, and she felt light-headed again, she turned out the kitchen and out the house. She stood at the top of the step, looking out at Simon. It looked as though Simon had given up putting his suitcase into the trunk, he was sitting on top of his case, his head in his hands. He looked so much older to Teresa; she went down the steps with her own case loudly hitting the steps. Simon looked up at her and then back down. When Teresa reached him, she dropped down on her knees, not noticing the stones of the driveway digging into her skin. "Simon." she whispered, her voice breaking. He looked up at her, his eyes full of tears, his little button nose red, and face stained from older tears. Teresa's heart broke, it hurt her to see her little brother like this. "It's-" her voice broke again, she took a deep breath, "It's going to be alright," she whispered.

Simon looked at Teresa, his eyes full of hurt and sadness. "How can you be so sure about that?" he whispered back, his voice was soft and so small.