TORN BETWEEN TWO WORLDS

Chapter 2:Starting over

                  The phone buzzed yet again in my hand. My thoughts were all over the place.

                   What if it is the same person that called me at my party! What could 'she' want with me now? What if it is the kidnappers? I paid it all up! I haven't given my contact to anyone new, have I?

              'Just answer the damn phone, you won't find out by just staring at the screen.' My subconscious added to my already tortured thoughts.

              I decided to pick it up.

            "Hello...."

           "He...He...Hello..." I stammered.

         "You sound like you've just seen a ghost Amelia."

             I recognized the voice right there and then, as he chuckled through the phone.

           "Jace! Hey, am sorry I thought you were someone else, how did you get my number?"

        "I do my homework."

             Like I assigned him one. Psssht.

       "Mmmh...charming." I could hear him chuckle at my response. "So, you okay, with your foot and all, hope you didn't call to sue me"

                 He laughs for some time, and I actually join him, "I am okay, no suing, I actually called you for something else."

                 "Tell me about it."

            "I wanted to invite you to a birthday party. It's on Saturday night. My brother just told me about it, and I thought of bringing company, you know..., if you are free."

            "I would love to come, but I apparently can't. I have plans that night, so..."

             "Oh, okay then, see you around, maybe after Saturday."

               "Yeah, sure, goodnight."

                 "You too, Amelia." He finally said and hanged up.

                 I stretched my hand to grab my copy of Oblivion, by Anthony Horowitz, and decided to spend my night reading it.

                       The car slowed down and stopped at the traffic lights and at once nine children ran forward. They were the usual crowd- barefooted, dressed in rags or half naked, starving, with empty, saucer eyes, their hands capped in the universal symbol for food. They almost seemed to be vying for who could look the most pathetic. We are starving, they pleaded, their shirts hanging open to reveal the skin stretched over their ribcage. Give us something to eat. Give us money. Give us anything. The driver ignored them, and stared straight ahead, waiting for the lights to change.

                     Life seemed very unfair. For a moment I began questioning our government, our form of leadership, I mean, how do you see a street child and just ignore them? I know I wouldn't if I met one. Before I know it, I am fast asleep, with my book on my side.

                   The bright Friday morning was one to look forward to. I had to get ready for Saturday night, prepare a list for the attendees and combine it with my Dad's, and get the apartment search going. I literally had no time to waste. I got up from bed and went to the bathroom. The water was warm on my body. I brushed my teeth and dried my hair, curled it, and pinned it to keep it off my face. I changed into my jeans and a black tank top with my tommys and went downstairs.