The Stolen and The Gone

Three

She let out a breath she had been holding the entire time and threw her head back while she closed her eyes. It was a relief to have her father out of the house. A relief, for more than one reason.

She threw her legs off the bed and attempted to stand up. At first she staggered at her weight, very light, lighter than ever before. She regained her balance and then padded off to the bathroom, washed her face just to wake her up a bit, and climbed into the shower.

When she climbed out she felt refreshed and no longer had that icky-sticky feeling under her eyes.

On top of the bathroom wash sink was a mirror, quite a large one to her unfortune. One look into her own blue eyes made her head shoot to face the ground.

But maybe it wasn't a bad thing to look in the mirror. Maybe it wasn't selfish or insensitive to look at yourself in the mirror. Maybe it was not forgetting.

So she lifted her head and was surprised to see herself look...normal. Healthy normal. Other than the bags under her eyes and the sharpness to her cheekbones or the way her eyes bulged out of her eye sockets. Her long brownish-blonde hair fell down past her knees and her cheeks had an actual pinky glow to it. Her round face and her plump lips still remaind through all the chappness and crying. It wasn't that bad looking at herself after all.

She almost smiled, truly smiled.

She pulled on a blue jean, white shirt, grey sweater, black boots and her favourite black jacket. She glided down the stairs and glanced past the kitchen. There was no use for breakfast if she couldn't even keep it down, after all. She opened the front door and was greeted by a gust of icy cold wind that blew her hair away from her face and made her skin prickle.

She shut the door quickly. Her mobile phone. She wouldn't be able to call Phillip if she didn't have her phone.

She ran upstairs and grabbed her duffel bag, threw her phone inside and her hands hovered over the clothes in her cupboard. It wasn't like running away. More like spending time away from home so that she could clear her mind and get her priorities straight.

Stuffing her clothes in her bag her mind ran back to that last moment on top of The Shack. The look in Piers eyes was merciless, crude and didn't fit her best friend. Although he acted pissy around other people he always had a special place for her, a special feeling for her. He laughed and talked with her like he spoke to nobody else, smiled and felt at ease with her, and her with him. He was her escape from home. If it wasn't for him she would have gotten more and more involved in her father's life, and after what she'd heard from Piers she didn't want any part in it.

Her eyes began to moist, but she rubbed them vigorously and took the stairs two steps at a time, opened the door and stepped outside it without having a single thought of regret.

Snow flakes immediately piled on her jacket, the contrast between the black and white made her eyes hurt. She looked next to her house at the Barnet Gate Wood. In summer it was a beautiful sight to see with its serene gardens and tall green trees. Now it was just naked white bark. It didn't look anything like the woods in her strange dream she had had the previous night. Even in summer, these woods were not nearly as green and beautiful as the oak wood.

The streets were empty; no people, no cars.

She took out her phone and dialed Jess' number. When Jess answered on the other line Cameron could picture her jumping up and down, her ginger head of curls bouncing as she did so.

"Cam! My God what- when- are you coming over?"

"Yeah, I'm on my way now, Jess, how are you?" It felt good to here her friend's familiar, comforting voice again.