MILITARY CAMP ❀ lariana

[2] runaway

run·a·way (rʌnəweɪ)

n. a person who has run away, especially from their family or an institution.

recommended song to listen to whilst reading: TOMORROW NEVER DIES - 5 Seconds Of Summer

With the bag being zipped closed, I quickly shoved the bag containing all my essentials under my bed, placing some boxes in front so it wouldn't be too obvious. I had a plan and I had to admit, it was a very safe one.

All I had to do was wait until midnight where the clock stroke twelve, the church bells ringing, signalizing it was the new day. In that time I could sneak out of the house, using the window.

I simply had to be quick, that was it.

As much as I wanted to, I couldn't bring my usual baggy shirts with me because they were obviously made for women. If one of the generals found out that I was the opposite gender, I was as good as dead.

So somehow, I managed to get some of dad's old shirts in my hands. Of course I also carried my toiletries with me, aka a scissor to cut my hair in case it grew longer and a year's stash of tampons.

Suddenly a sound ringed in my ears and I snapped ,y head towards the door, assuming it was mom.

"What is it now?" I groaned, falling on my bed, my face coming in contact with the soft pillow.

Just then I was aware that the pillow would be the last very comfortable thing I would ever get to have before being in camp for good.

"Someone's moody here aye; mom problems?" The voice, that I definitely recognized and that definitely belonged to a man, chuckled and all of sudden the bed shifted, signalizing that he sat down. His Australian accent was a trademark of his.

"What do you think? It can't be sibling problems." I huffed and propped my elbows on the bed, my chin resting in the palm as I smiled at him. "What are you even doing here?"

"I thought I'd crash here for a night." The boy shrugged before laying beside me on his back so I could admire his profile.

That blond hair, his bright eyes, the dimple showing when he smiled...

"Dad problems?" I raised a brow at him and he chuckled deeply.

"Well it can't be sibling problems." With that his booped my nose on which I , seconds later, swatted his hand away.

"Do my parents even know that you are here?" I asked as I sat up, crisscrossing my legs.

"Yeah, and as usual your mom's being super nice." He cleared his throat and propped his arms on the soft mattress, leaning on his muscular arms.

"Well, feel like home!" I exclaimed, doing extra big circles with my hands before getting of the bed and closing the window since it started to get chilly.

Before I could close the window properly, I noticed how a rope of cloths and clothes tied in each other, building an escape route was tied on the window sill. A flash of horror came into my mind; with Ashton in the house, I couldn't possibly get out without him trying to stop me.