Bubble

Chapter 7: "Leaving"

Emma

I counted down to the beep of the alarm clock. My eyes had been shifting between its glowing numbers and the ceiling for the past two hours, the butterflies in my stomach keeping me from sleep. Time had seemed to slow in the last 48 hours, tormenting me until I finally reached the morning that marked the beginning of our new lives.

When the clock began to buzz, I nearly hit my head on the ceiling as I leapt down from bunk, not even bothering to use the ladder. I shook a half-sleeping Chloe awake, then bounded into Austin’s room to do the same.

“Come on! We’ve gotta go!” I shouted, running back into my room and pulling on the day clothes I had laid out the previous night. I was dressed and stuffing my pyjamas in my bag before Austin or Chloe’s feet had even touched the ground.

I finished zipping my duffle closed, then gripped the handles to bring it to the front door. Packing had taken awhile; it was rather difficult deciding which parts of your life to keep with you, and which to leave behind. We were each issued a single duffle bag and a backpack. At first, I didn’t think it would be much of a dilemma; my entire wardrobe fit inside about half of the bag, and even after adding in the rest of the personal items I was bringing, there was still a good chunk of space left.

But then I got to my journals.

Unlike most people, I still preferred to write in tangible, bound, paper books. I had accumulated dozens over the years, and they were spilling out of every corner of my room: the cabinet above my bed, under Chloe's bed, on the closet floor, in the nightstand, and scattered on random surfaces in the apartment. I loved my journals, but unfortunately they took up quite a bit more space than a single tablet. I had to narrow them down to which I would take with me, and which I would have to leave behind (after cataloging them digitally, of course). I finally settled on taking as many books as I could, in exchange for departing with nostalgic keepsakes like my favourite stuffed animal from when I was a child. My backpack weighed about a hundred pounds because of it, and I’d barely been able to close the zipper, but in the end I somehow managed to make it all fit.

I didn't even attempt to pick my bag up, I just started dragging it across the floor—but even that was extremely difficult. I managed to get it out all the way into the living room before I fell. I made the brilliant mistake of wearing socks, and as pulled the bag towards myself, the frictionless floor got the best of me and I yanked myself down, landing on my butt.

I heard laughter and turned to find that my parents were already out in the kitchen.

“Need some help there, Emma?” my dad asked, chuckling.

I blushed and nodded. “Maybe…”

My dad took my duffle from me and effortlessly toss it by the front door. I wandered into the kitchen to join my mum in a cup of tea.

“Morning mum!” I chirped happily, kissing her on the cheek.

“Morning, darling,” my mum laughed. “There’s some breakfast on the counter there if you want some.” She gestured to it with her cup.

I glanced over at the food and shook my head. “I don’t think I can eat right now,” I said, bouncing on my toes like I’d drank 10 cups of coffee. The butterflies in my stomach had turned into a flock of birds at this point.

Austin and Chloe walked out a couple minutes later, still looking rather tired; it was only five in the morning after all. Austin’s hair was pointing in a million directions as if he was struck by lightening, and Chloe’s eyes were still half closed as she held her big brothers hand with one arm, and a limp backpack in the other. Austin dumped their bags by the door with the others and walked back over to join us in the kitchen.