Washington D.C. was just how I remembered it when we left, sweltering heat and bustling with people trying to make the best of what was left of summer. The sun burned hot on my face as I exited the airport with only my carry on satchel in hand, all the other plane tickets were stuffed inside and unused. I hoped it wasn't too blatantly obvious where I went, all I wanted to do was go home.
Outside I hailed another cab, my money supplies was extremely low and I hoped I would be able to pay for the trip to my house. Otherwise, he would have to watch me break into my own home. Once there, I would take some money and buy some food, I could find the money mom hid in our house. Just look into her favorite pages of a book, you'll find something.
I had the minimal amount of payment, no tip. He seemed disgruntled but I tried to ignore him as I stepped onto familiar ground, breathing in one big sigh of relief and smelling the familiar aroma of home. I picked the front door lock and went inside cautiously, I wasn't aware of any extra security measures my mother might have put in place. I was surprised not to find any, and yet the place was still intact. Un-robbed and un-plundered for a month while we were gone, it's almost unheard of. The cabinets were cleared of all food and the refrigerator and freezer were turned off, I started them back up again.
I skipped a few steps on the stairs until I was back in my room, clothes strewed every which way from packing. I explored my room as I'd left it, books with bookmarks halfway through them on my nightstand, places on my wall where I'd taken down a picture of Christina and I, a couple bottles of water that I hadn't bothered to throw away yet. It was all still here, untouched.
I walked to my nightstand. I had done a very good job of hiding anything that had to deal with Dylan's and I's relationship, of course I kept everything he gave me. I lifted my lamp off my nightstand carefully to reveal the notes he'd left me, careful hand written scribbles from a happier time. There was the code, the hint from Mexico City, and my favorite, the letter from when he had held me in his arms one night. I placed it back down on top of them, I wasn't ready to get rid of them yet.
Part of my impulsiveness to come back home, was the hope that Dylan might find me, that I might get some closure. I think that's all I ever really needed.
I took my phone out and checked it, nothing. By then, I expected Christina to have texted me, a couple missed calls from my sisters, and harsh voicemail from my mom. But I had nothing. Weird.
I searched through the book shelves in the trophy room, last I remember Mom had been re-reading Of Mice Of Men, I found a fifty stuck in the middle. After rummaging through some of her past books, I managed to collected just over a hundred bucks, more than enough for me.
I grabbed the keys from the kitchen counter and went into the garage to go shopping for some food. I wasn't sure how much to buy, everything was uncertain. I could be by myself for minutes, days, weeks. In the store, I acted like a total stereotypical teenager, grabbing bags of chips, chicken and fries from the frozen section, and lots and lots of pizza. So far, being on my own is really fun. The house is quiet, I can eat what I want, watch as much TV as I please. Yep, life without having to hide secrets is good.
Now all I have to do is wait to be found.
Being all by myself in that eerily quiet house all day long, gave me a lot of time to really think and ponder about why I am so stupid. My goal since the beginning of this terrible mess called my life, was to protect my family and shove it in Dylan's face when his family lost the little feud. Now I'd gone and run away from them all, what's wrong me? I seem to be asking that question a lot lately.
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My Classified Life
Teen FictionEmily Smith is not a normal teen, she's a spy in training thrust into a life where everything is Classified. Her mother is training her in the ways of Espionage and Stealing. Emily may not be the best spy/thief ever, but she knows when something is...