Running Free

Chapter 4 | Stupid Notesheets

~Attached Song is Angles by XX (huglife remix)~

"You asked why I'm taking criminal justice. I'm taking it because of my mom. She left. I figured that if I could become a cop that maybe I could track her down."

Shit. Did I just tell her all of that?

Yep, you did. Congratulations.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

At least you didn't tell her all of it.

Mia froze, staring at me with her glowing, crocodile-green eyes, her lips parted slightly. Her hands had stopped moving in gentle strokes of paint on the wall, and instead, had dropped to her side altogether. She blinked out of her daze, looking away, saying nothing.

I I turned my back to her, my mind trapped in a whirlpool of confusion and shock as I replayed the last two minutes in my head. I met this stranger just days ago, and now I've told her half of my life. The reasoning behind why I blurted it out, is unknown to me.

I bent down, placing the brush on the top of the paint can and turning back to Mia, who looked unsurprisingly fazed by my words. Her face was unreadable; it frustrates me trying to decipher the thoughts dancing through her mind. I swallowed, taking a deep breath. "I didn't mean to tell you that. I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me; it just slipped out. . ." I whispered after a tedious silence.

Mia glanced up at me. "I understand. Don't worry, I won't say anything to anyone," she replied quietly, her voice monotone. For a moment, she looked like she wanted to say something else, but shook the words away.

"Thanks," I mumbled awkwardly.

I need to get out of here.

What if she Googles me? What if she finds out who my dad is?

"On a different note, it looks like the room is finished," I continued. "I suggest you wait at least twenty-four hours before hanging anything up on the walls. The primer is mixed in with the paint, so don't worry about that. Anyway, I better be going."

I edged around the paint cans and swished past Mia towards the door. About to open in, Mia suddenly piped up. "See you around, and thanks again for the help."

I nodded, opening the door and slipping outside and into the hallway. I pulled the hood of my jacket over my head before pulling my phone out of my pocket and unwrapping my earbuds. Plugging them into my ears, I drowned myself in music. Without music, the world would either be suffocated in silence, or deaf from the screams of terror that sound more these days than it should.

****
M I A

It was Monday, and after dropping Toby off, I walked steadily through the vast hallway of the college I attended—The University of Paris. When I'd been accepted, I was ecstatic. It was an excellent university; the best in the area.

The morning hallway traffic left me almost five minutes late for my Criminology 1 class, one of the few English spoken classes offered for those from the States. I avoided eye contact with others, trying to keep a low profile as I slowly opened the metal door. I slipped silently through, hoping I would go unnoticed. Of course, luck was against me, and my sweaty palm slipped off the handle, leaving the door to swing shut with a noisy bang following.