I woke up some time later, still sitting in the backseat of the car America was driving. We were on a highway now, headed to who knew where.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“Ah, good, you’re awake,” England said, turning his head to look at me. “We’re almost at the airport.”
“Oh, okay.” I didn’t need to ask why we were at the airport. It was obvious that we needed to get away from China.
As I stared out the window, watching the buildings in the city pass by, I felt almost sad to be leaving. Sure, China was a little psychopathic, but being in this country wasn’t actually too terrible. Everything was different; it was a nice change.
Time passed by, and I slowly began to remember the dream I was having before I woke. America and England were in it, as with most of my other dreams.
“Why are you guys always in my dreams?” I found myself asking.
America snickered. “Well, I guess I’m the man of your dreams, then, huh?”
I rolled my eyes. “Ha ha. I’m trying to be serious here; why have you guys been showing up in my dreams?”
England sighed quietly. “I’m not entirely sure, but it’s probably due to the fact that you’re half country. Magic doesn’t work quite as well on a country as it does on a human, so the spell I used might’ve acted a little weaker than it would on someone who is completely human.”
“Oh.” I frowned. I was hoping for a more exciting answer, but then I remembered: what’s more exciting than being Italy’s half-country daughter running across the world to get away from a crazed China? Nothing, nothing could be more exciting.
The car grew quiet once again, but I was wide awake this time. Iggy fell asleep after a few minutes, so America put on some music. The music had to be from his phone or something because it was all in English.
After Cool Kids by Echosmith was done playing, Black Widow came on.
I sat up eagerly from my laying position in the backseat. “Ooh, turn it up! I love this song!”
“Britain’s sleeping,” America replied, smiling slightly.
I gave him a look. “Really?”
He pursed his lips. “I don’t really want him bitching at me… Eh, whatever, man.”
He turned the dial and the car started shaking thanks to the bass. About halfway through the song, while we both belted the lyrics, Iggy woke up, groaning.
“Turn it down!” he shouted.
“I’m gonna love ya,” I sang even louder. “Gonna love ya! I’m gonna love ya, like a black widow, baby!”
He huffed and suddenly reclined, his seat landing on top of me. The air was pushed out of my lungs and my chest was being crushed.
“Ah, England!” I cried. “Get off of me!”
America looked back and snickered before turning down the music as the song ended. “Dude, song’s over. Get off of her now; you’re totally crushing her.”
England huffed again and pulled his chair back up. I shifted over to America’s side of the car, pouting slightly.
For a while, the ride was completely silent. I was just about to start drifting off again when America swore suddenly and pressed down on the gas. I gasped as the force flung me back against the seat.
“What happened?” I asked.
“They’re behind us!” America exclaimed, zipping his way around all the cars on the highway.
“Who? China?”
“Yes!”
A car that didn’t see us racing up pulled in front of us and America slammed on the breaks, causing England and I to fly forward. England’s seatbelt caught him and he woke up, but I wasn’t wearing a seatbelt so I flew face first into the back of America’s seat.
“Sorry, sorry,” he apologized. “That car is totally stupid. Don’t they know that we’re being chased down?!”
“Well, I doubt it,” England said, sounding very annoyed. “Quick, go right before this truck gets ahead.”
America did as told and we were soon rushing down the highway again. Cars were honking excessively at us and some fingers were raised along with very colorful words. America shouted back at them until I reminded him that they couldn’t hear him. Then he rolled down the windows and continued shouting back.
Soon enough, we reached the airport. The cars that were chasing us weren’t in sight anymore.
America quickly parked and we all hopped out. He grabbed my hand and we ran into the building, England on our heels.
“When’s the next flight to Cali?” America asked the man at the front desk.
“In thirty minutes, sir,” he replied with a smile. “Would you like to buy tickets?”
“Totally, dude. You got three left in first class?”
The man checked. “No, sorry. Only two.”
“Well, that’s okay, right Bri-Arthur?” America asked Iggy.
I elbowed America in the stomach.
“Ow, okay, sorry. Jeez,” he muttered. “Okay, three for regular seating or whatever you call it.”
The man smiled again, but he had a wary look in his eyes. “Okay.”
America paid after making a fuss about the price (it was three thousand dollars in American money) and we went to wait for the flight to start boarding.
The plane had three seats on each side, so we weren’t forced to split the seating. I was made to sit in the middle, America called the window seat, and Iggy was left with the aisle seat.
About an hour into the flight, both were passed out. My mind was racing, though. How were we going to escape from China and his goons? What were we going to do in California? Most importantly: what did China want from me?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AN:
Hey guys! Sorry that I haven't updated anything in... what? 2 months? Damn, I need to get back into the swing of things, haha. School's just been stressful and I'm tackling three jobs atm, so there are my excuses, haha. >.<
So, yes, this chapter is short, I know. The next chapter will be a little more exciting, don't worry. :) And things will soon start picking up a bit more. More answers will be revealed. XD
Today's Song: Make Me Wanna Die by The Pretty Reckless
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