Masked

two

I still could not tell you.

Whether you think I'm lying or not.

It could also be the pressure to uphold the family name.

Wyzer. Never heard of it? Good.

The paved road beneath my feet begins to crunch as it turns slowly into the gravel path that leads into the woods.

At this point, we're in the clear and have nothing to worry about. However, my grasp doesn't loosen at all.

Why is that good you ask?

I have my bag hanging down by side while Josh walks in front of me with his bag slung over his shoulder.

The sun is almost risen by now, the New Jersey air hitting me. I breath it in, the familiar scent calming.

We've lived everywhere by now. You name it, we've been there. I was born in New Jersey, but I haven't lived in one place for more than two years.

It's not all that uncommon. I've never had friends because of my family having to move so often.

We're criminals. That's why.

I did have one though. In seventh grade I met a girl named Amanda. We were living in Texas at this point and it was pretty hot that day.

What do you do when it's hot out? Go find ice cream. That's exactly what I did.

Luke and I went to the neighborhood park and while he distracted the ice cream man, I tried to steal cones for Luke and I.

I wasn't successful, and the man caught me. Amanda came over and stated that she had bought that one for me earlier and that I wanted to help my brother pick out something for him.

We got away with it. I don't remember a day that summer I didn't spend with Amanda.

I remember the days after summer though. She stopped responding to my texts four days before school started, my eighth grade year. On the first day of school I looked everywhere for her. Nothing.

At first I thought maybe we just didn't have any classes together, until third period when the teacher read the attendance. Amanda Gheri was called and never was Amanda Gheri present.

We had to leave thirteen days into the school year. That was the last anyone in Texas had ever heard from me.

I've also had different identities to get me through school.

In California I was Opal Johnson. In Wyoming I was Grace Wilson.

In Texas I was Quinn Nelson.

My real name? Talia Wyzer. Nobody knows that though.

I haven't heard from Amanda to this day. Does it bother me? Not at all.

"Hey. Hello? Tal, Talia," Luke's hand suddenly appears in front of my face. "We've got to keep moving; lets pick up the pace."

"Oh, yeah. Sorry," I snap out of my flashback into reality and continue walking.

We're deep in the forest now, the trees thick, but still able to see the sun through the branches.

"So, what's for breakfast?" Luke looks at me.

This is how criminals mind's work. They rob a bank, then ask for breakfast as if nothing had happened.