Escape

1 • A

Annabelle's POV

I stood in front of the small mirror and moaned in disgust. The bright pink shirt hugged my body with the dark purple blazer slung carelessly over it. The white tie, delicately knotted, was off-centre and my hair hung in a messy brownish-red sheet around my shoulders.

My mother walked in, carrying a basket of freshly washed laundry but came to an abrupt halt as she saw my outfit.

With a heavy sigh, she placed her basket down and began sorting my uniform out, straightening the tie, adjusting the blazer and brushing out my short bland hair.

"It would look nice curled," she offered. "It just looks so plain for the first day."

I rolled my eyes at my mum and shook my head, unable to speak due to my nerves.

"Hurry up!" My fathers voice came from downstairs and my mother grabbed her laundry basket and caught me by the wrist dragging me with her.

Five minutes later, I was shoving my last suitcase into the boot of the bright yellow Kia Picanto.

I strapped myself in and the horn beeped to encourage my mother to hurry up.

She entered the car in a huff and slammed the door, pulling her makeup from her small red handbag and opening the little mirror to apply it.

In the rear view mirror, I saw my dad roll his eyes and pull out of the driveway sharply which ended of my mothers hand jerking and smearing lipstick along her Cupid's Bow.

A stream of curses and slaps continued but I wasn't scared for their marriage. My father had once left his phone in his pocket when he dived into our pool, fully clothed and they're still going strong with their 14 year anniversary.

I lean back in my chair and plug my headphones in, blasting Riot!AtTheParty through them.

"ANNABELLE JONES! ANSWER ME THIS INSTANT!" The screech awoke me from my stupor and I slid my headphones around my neck. My mothers face was red and she had turned round in her seat the better o look at me.

"What did you say, mum?" I asked, innocently smiling at her. I truly had no idea what she had said but teasing her was a slight relief to the tension that had been building up in me.

"I asked: Why have you changed your name? It says here that your name is A rather than Annabelle. What's the secrecy?"

Sighing, I put my headphones back on and glanced at my father in the mirror. He too looked irritated at his wife's ignorance to the modern day.

"It's just the style," I said, tapping my fingers to 'King's New Outfit', one of my favourite songs. "It's cool to have a strange name. Since mines so normal, I decided to change it."

"So," my dad said to his wife, firmly. "You've got to call Annabelle, A when we arrive. Otherwise there's no point in doing it at all. Her whole cover will be blown."

My mother nodded and continued dabbing at a spot on her head with concealer.

Well, I thought to myself. At least I can relax now.

I settled back in the seat and looked out of the window.

And that's when I thought I saw, a streak of blonde hair.