Forcing Forget

Chapter 2

This chapter is dedicated to maybeillfallforyou because of her AMAZING book, The Clear Choice. I highly suggest checking it out! 

On the side is a picture of Aubrey

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My hands are lifeless at my sides when my mother hugs me lightly. She had cried herself dry, and for the first time since the news of the rebellion, she is strangley emotionless. I almost feel as though I'd rather have her crying at my departure; her numbness means she has given up. 

My father, on the other hand, is continuously reassuring me that everything will be fine, when I think it is him who needs the reassuring. 

"We will see eachother soon enough. The rebellion will die down in a week, tops," he would say, over and over.

In the mean time, I had packed mostly clothes, my toothbrush, and a bottle of my mother's favorite perfume: Dancing in Diamonds, by Viadore Luce. I continuously turned around in my room, feeling as though I was missing something; and then I would remember, I was. In fact, I was missing everything. I couldn't bring the angel statue with the broken wing I kept above my door, or the mosaic stained bed lamp designed by Tiffany Co just for me. 

I also couldn't bring my sister. 

Every house with a noble son or  daughter received the call, assigning each child to a safety house, most of which belonged to nobles in other countries. I suppose there is a unifying sense of sympathy they share for us; in a way, my mother said, they think that we cannot control our peasantry class, and that this rebellion is publically perceived as the incompetency of our government. Nonetheless, I think that I am grateful for their support. I hate the idea of leaving my family, but the Bureau hadn't given us a choice in the matter anyhow. 

The worst part is, though, that the crisis plan is only reserved for children and teenagers, ages 19 and under. While I fell snugly into the category at age 17, my sister had turned 20 only three weeks prior to the outbreak. And she would thusly have to remain in Tuskadel, with no protection what-so-ever. 

Up and down the streets are helicopters, some coming and, and some leaving. Each street has their own stop so no one has to travel; the farther away from your home, the more at risk you were putting yourself. 

It is just after midnight, and only now are Xavier, the Kendalls twins, Tate and Cole, and the Crisabel sisters Clare, Tarin, and Marie, and I getting ready to board the two helicopters. Ms. Crisabel won't let go of her youngest, Tarin, and Mr. Aldaine holds Ms. Aldaine just like my father has his arms wrapped around my mother and sister. Poor Tate and Cole have no parents to send them off, just their uncle, Christopher Haspen. 

My parents hadn't even turned off the car, because I knew they had to be prepared to leave at any second; the trunk was still popped open and the soft purr of the engine mixes with the sharper roar of the helicopters, efficiently humming out the instructions the man was giving us. I know I hear something about us being split into two locations, and that we would not be able to talk to our parents. I fell into a tired daze as he addressed the worried adults, and I felt Xavier's eyes on me. 

"...and say your final goodbye's, because no one knows how long this will be." I turn to my parents with an open mouth to say goodbye, but my sister cuts me off by crushing me into her chest. I wire my arms around her as well, no questions asked; it is a silent goodbye. When she steps away, she pushes a lock of my honey colored hair behind my ear. 

"Stay safe," she whispers. 

I am dazed as my mother hugs me, and my father kisses my forhead. All I know is that Xavier pulls me to the same helicopter as the Kendal twins. Once we are inside, a man turns around the talk to us; the co-pilot? I'm not sure. He smiles warmly at me, and I smile back, even though I don't know what he is saying.