New York New York

Mackenzie.. 2

New York City. Bright lights, crowded streets. World Trade Center; the twin towers. Two buildings; twins. But it was important for me to get to the North Tower?

 

My dad. I searched for months, just to find where he was. Noth Tower, floor nine; Bank of America. A banker is a good job, right?

 

I was in the building before I even had time to give it a second thought. I took the elevator to the ninth floor, taking in deep breaths. By the fifth or sixth breath, the elevator doors dinged open. For a second, I contemplated staying in the elevator and going back down, but realized I would have nowhere else to go. I stepped out of the elevator, staynig close to the wall, taking everything in.

 

There was a tall boy, probably in his late teens or early twenties, leaning on the wall, right next to me. He had almost black hair, spiked up into a faux hawk, sparkling green eyes, a nice tan, and a bright smile. He definitely looked friendly, friendly enough for even someone as shy as me to talk to. Instead of talking though, I just stared. I was embarrassed when his eyes met mine, making me blush. My cheeks were probably flaming red by now, feeling too awkward that I'd beeen caught looking. I glanced at my feet, then back at him, to find him still looking at me.

 

I thought I should smile at him, just to be polite, then saw he looked frustrated, so I decided to just walk away. To bad I didn't know where i was going... 

I turned back, looking at him once again, his eye were already set on mine. He smiled, a huge smile, flashing bright teeth. I smiled back, not showing teeth; since I hadn't even brushed them since Thursday; when I ran away. 

I didn't grow up with my dad, and my mom got married about two years ago, right before my thirteenth birthday. My step-dad, Josh, likes to drink. He also likes to hit things. He doesn't hit mom, or any of his own three kids that got thrown into our family after the wedding. No, he hit me enough for all of us. I had enough bruises to cover all of our arms, legs, and backs.  

My real dads name was on my birth certificate, and that's how I found him.  

"Something I can help you with?" The guy asked, getting off the wall and stepping toward me. 

"I'm looking for my - Jonah Adams?" I hoped and prayed that he knew him, it would make this part a little easier. 

"Adams? You sure that's who you want?" 

I nodded, I needed his help. 

"He's a little old for you, don't you think?" He winked at me, a much better wink than I'd ever seen anyone else do. I tried to laugh, but it came out a cough. 

"No - I mean, that's not what I -" 

"It's alright sweetheart, just a joke," he kept smiling, and I kept following him. I nodded again. "So, how old are you anyhow?" He asked politely. Everything he said flowed easily. 

"Sixteen," I stuttered. "And you?" 

"Seventeen..." 

He pointed to a man in a suit, and told me to wait there. The boy walked over to him, and I guessed it was Jonah. Jonah and the boy were whispering, and I was getting too impatient. Jonah's eyes darted around the room, the he shuffled I've to me. 

"Mackenzie?" He knew my name? How did he know it was me? I couldn't say anything. I was afraid that if I did, I would start crying. 

"You look just like your mom. How is she; your mom? How are you?" Jonah sounded as nervous as I felt.