Uncertain

Chapter 1

"A girl doesn't need anyone who doesn't need her."
-Marilyn Monroe

~Michelle~
Thunder crackled through the twisted night sky. I sat straight up, breathing hard. That dream again. I'm not much of a journalist, but ever since my parents were killed, I guess I've turned into one.

Anyway, the dream goes like this. I'm in my room, as usual, but then the power goes out. I see my purple alarm clock flaring the time 2:16 am. I hear gunshots and screams in the living room, and after that, silence. Cold, dark silence. But one of the loudest sounds I'd ever heard.

My dad always said that we should do what we want because life is what we make of it. The problem with this of course, is that I'm only a twenty two year old living alone in this beat up old house in an unpretentious neighborhood. I place my feet on the rugged floor. My twin sized bed creaks as I stand. I look in the mirror. I look just like my mom, with my long brown hair and my deep hazel eyes, that almost looked a pure shade of brown, like the brownies that my mom used to bake. It brings back memories of my childhood, I blink back my tears and walk outside. I remember when I only cried if I scraped my knee, and the only war I knew was a simple children's game. I remember how my hero was my mom and I believed my dad could save the world. I remember how people made friends in kindergarten, coloring and going to get ice cream together, stopping to laugh at the funny costumes in Halloween magazines. I remember how anyone could live happily ever after. And I couldn't wait to grow up.

The grass feels sharp on my small bare feet. I stare up at the cloudy sky, the sun not in view. I step on a branch and it snaps.
"Ah!" Even some of the smallest things scare me now.

I run to my treehouse, or as I used to call it, my secret hideout.

I make my way up the hanging ladder, careful not to misstep to the two or three places where pegs have fallen off. I get to the top and pull myself inside. My small desk is still there, along with my hello kitty rug my mom gave me when I was 7 years old. For whatever the reason, I never felt the need to discard the old ratted up carpet.

When my parents were murdered, yes they were murdered, I slipped outside into my treehouse and fell asleep. The following morning, I found their bodies gone along with their valuable possessions.

Suddenly, I forgot why I came up to my treehouse so I climb down the wrangled ladder and jog indoors. I glance back out the window and see tiny dew drops forming right on the glass, dancing along the window pane. As they get heavier and heavier, they soon drizzle down the window and splatter onto the wet cold grass. Of course, that's just a rain drop. But maybe to an ant, it could be a flood or a new supply of water. Perspective is pretty important to me, I guess.

A soft growl perturbs me and I jump back, tripping over a coffee table. Oops, my stomach again. I take a quick glare at the magazine standing alone, it has New York on the cover with the glowing lights and too tall towers. Maybe I'll go there someday, I think to myself. Why not today? I could always use a new point of view. I hum aloud, letting my childish side take over. You know what? I'm going to buy tickets today. Yes, did I mention my parents were both super rich and I obtained all their cash?

I make my way to the kitchen, all while deciding what I'm going to do with my life, short term and long term. But as I arrived at the pale blue painted kitchen, all I knew was that I'm going to make some pasta and head to New York. How cliché, am I right? The uneven wooden floor scratches at my feet as I grab a pan and place it on the bottom right stove.

I pour water into the bowl and decide to check for tickets at the Chicago airport, and I find a New York flight leaving at 7:30pm. I take a peek at the clock that reads 1:56 pm. I push the neon button purchase and feel a little bit relieved about leaving this place. Next I check Wattpad. I don't really use it to write, but I love to read fan fictions and fantasy daily. Sure, I always loved imagining, but I never knew that I could witness something magical myself.
___________________________
"We build too many walls, but not enough bridges."
-Isaac Newton

~Quinn~
I know I know, Quinn, a girls name. I hate it. Ugh, now you're probably thinking what a spoiled rude guy I am, which is partially true in my opinion.

My entire childhood dream, the little dream I had, was to become on TV. Like those people who suddenly move to New York and their lives suddenly brighten.

I'm thinking about this looking out the window on my break at Hardee's. It's not much, just the only Hardee's in my small city here close to Chicago.

Everyone thinks that because I'm occupied at Hardee's mostly everyday, that I should know how to make a large variety of foods, but honestly? The only disgusting food I make are the hamburgers that for all I know have twenty six different ingredients.

A bolt of lightning makes the sky glow, returning to darkness after. Simultaneously, thunder claps above and startles my coworker at the front counter. I yawn, and my head nods slowly as a fall asleep. Well, almost.

Then I think of something, something very important on my mind that's on the tip of my tongue and won't breathe out with my exhales. I check my the clock hanging above the exit. 5:32 PM.

I remember it. I was going to quit today, free myself of all these worries and this job that's wasting all my time. I'm only 23, I should go live my life. I go back to the storage room to pack up my things to return to my house, if that's what you'd even call it. It's more like a small shack in the center of a neighborhood.

Where are you going? You might ask. Well, I'm not quite sure yet.

I cunningly crack my lock to find one of my wallets missing along with my house keys. Great, I really need to stop letting my coworkers see me unlock my lock. I shrug it off. I'm not even surprised anymore, I'm just disappointed that the people I work with couldn't just respect me. I hold my head high and sneak through the back door. A sense of freedom strikes through me. Well, to the airport I go.

Once I arrive, it's almost 6:00 PM. I run to the arrivals and departures sign and take a look at where I could travel to. Somewhere far, I hope.

Phoenix, Arizona
Today, 8:00 PM

Atlanta, Georgia
Today, 7:00 PM

Manhattan, New York
Today, 7:30PM

Manhattan? That's been my lifelong dream. To go to New York and just go with the flow. Why not, I decide?

I don't know who I really am. I'm going to New York to find out. Wow, do you know how cliche that sounded? Well believe me when I tell you, my life is not cliche in any way.