Furtive

Introductions

Chapter 1

I walked alone on the pavement, smack bang in the middle of suburbia. The pedicured lawns and perfectly shaped hedges stared me down as I paced along. I shivered. I began to realise more and more that I really didn't belong there; I didn't really belong in this boring little town with wannabe posh people. I knew my place, and it definitely wasn't there. In the foggy air, I could just make out headlights in the distance. I paused and waited for them to come closer. The headlights remained the same distance away, stationary. Annoyed, I made my way to the vehicle in the distance. As I came closer, I figured out it was the bus I was looking for, the one that will take me into town. The bus still wouldn't move. I walked up to the door and peered in. Some fat, old bus driver was totally asleep on the steering wheel. I banged loudly on the glass and the driver awoke with a jolt. The door opened with a hiss, as bus doors do, and I climbed aboard.

"What's a young lady like you doin' 'round this time of night?" he grumbled. I ignored his question,

"A ticket into town, please sir" I said. Shit, I thought to myself, I really need to stop talking like my parents. The driver handed me over a ticket and began to start the engine. I found a seat near the front. That is as far as I had planned. From then on, it was up to me to make the quick decisions. The world flew past out the window. I guessed it was goodbye now, goodbye to Sutton. My stomach felt uneasy, and I finally admitted to myself that I was nervous, really super nervous. What if I get into town and I get lost? I haven't been into the city that much. What if all the homeless people try and kidnap me? I can't go back now. I need to stay positive. I laughed nervously and the bus driver gave me an odd look through the rear-view mirror.

"Sorry," I said. He grunted in reply. "Actually, I'm not sorry," I exclaimed.

"Rightio," he mumbled. I need to change myself, I thought, I can't be a little, polite, apologetic girl. That's not going to get me very far. My parents had been brainwashing me for so long. They had been brainwashing me to believe that I was not important, that I was a little worker ant, just here to help the rest of the community to progress through the years. I was taught not to want things, but to attend to other peoples wishes. That didn't make sense to me. I was told that I needed to finish school, get a job, work, and then, I guess, die. Well, I wasn't told to die, but that's what happens anyway. Where's the fun and adventure in this cycle? Where's is the choice, freedom and rare opportunities? They aren't there, and that's why I called it quits. I didn't want to be the norm; I wanted to live while I could. I get one life and my parents want me to spend it working for other people, conforming to the rules of society? Ridiculous. The bus slowed down and I looked out the window. We were in London. The 30 minute drive had gone so quickly. I sat in my seat, I didn't know what to do, or think, or say.

"Uh, we are here" mumbled the bus driver. I nodded, grabbed my bag and hopped off the bus. It pulled away from behind me and I was left alone. The air was chilly and foggy. The streetlight above me flickered dimly. All of a sudden I felt so small. Maybe I should've just given up then, but I didn't. I strolled cautiously along the pavement. A church was on the corner of the street. It had a tall steeple and large windows that shone softly in the dim light. I needed to lie down for a bit. Inconspicuously, I sat myself in one of the giant doorways. I laid my head on my backpack and somehow managed to fall asleep.

Something nudged my hip. My eyes flickered open. It was a bright, sunny day and for a moment, I didn't know exactly where I was. An old lady stood in front of me.

"Are you alright dear?" she asked soothingly. I nodded. "Come on, get up, we can't have little girls in the doorways when the people start coming for mass". I pulled myself up slowly and stretched my arms above my head and yawned loudly. The old woman walked around me and into the church through a door that was closed when I fell asleep much earlier that morning. Beyond the door was a large room, filled with pews and colourful windows. I was never really religious, so I hadn't seen inside too many churches, and definitely not one like this. It finally struck me that the old lady had called me a little girl. I didn't like that one bit. Maybe she only called me that because I was young in comparison to her. "Are you going to join us for mass today... um..."

"Acadia" I muttered.

"What an interesting name!" she remarked. It's not an interesting name, it's a stupid name. My mother obviously wanted to put me through a live of misery, every second person comments on it.

"And, um, I best be off, you know, I've got places to be and such..." I urged.

"That's fine," said the old lady, "you know you can come any time you want to, ok? Mass is free".

"I'll keep that in mind," I replied. I returned to the street and began walking. I didn't know where I was going, but I knew I had to go somewhere. My stomach grumbled. I was hungry; I needed to find a shop, a café or something. Across the street, I spotted a little coffee shop and I made my way towards it. When I entered the shop, the smell of coffee and finger buns filled my nose. It was delightful. There was a big muffin in the glass display. Yum!

"Can I have the chocolate muffin?" I asked. The man behind the counter smiled opened the glass display. He put the muffin into a little brown bag and then placed it on the counter.

"3 pounds" said the man. Wow, that much for a muffin? I dug in my bag and looked for my money. It wasn't in there. The last place I had my wallet was on the bus, oh no... "You got the money kiddo?" asked the man impatiently.

"Yeah, yeah, hold on". I found a pound at the bottom of my bag but that was it. My palms began to sweat. What was I going to do in London with no money? I would surely starve. I rubbed my hands dry on my jeans.

"Uhhh...." I began

"Here". A hand reached over my shoulder and placed some money into the shopkeeper's hand.

"Thank you" said the shop keeper, "good day". I turned around to see who had paid for me. There was a boy standing behind me. He had deep, brown eyes and dark shaggy hair. He wore a blue beanie and a big black hoodie. He had a skateboard in one hand and the other hand was busy shoving change into his pocket. He smiled kindly at me before he left the shop, and skated away. I followed him out the door and watched him until he was a tiny dot in the distance. I began strolling aimlessly through the streets, munched on my muffin and thought about the boy from the coffee shop.