Behind Our Lies (One Direction)

Chapter 1

Jessica

March 25th 2012

I flick the lighter in my hand to the rhythm of  my clock, the seconds ticking away with warm flashes of light that give away glances of my room. Shabby pink walls seem closer in the light that only comes from the small flame I control with my fingers.

The old wooden furniture towers over me. My wardrobe’s doors are open, the drawers pulled out in a hurry. A sock dangles over the side of one. It’s pink with green stripes. How old might that be? I haven’t worn it in years!

The Carpet I sit on is worn out from all the steps I took since I was so little. Since I can remember, I have been walking on it. The yellow is faded and brownish from dust and even the big flowers seem more like stains by now.

This room looks empty despite the pictures on the walls. Maybe because the pictures show a girl growing up. Growing up to the age of 14, not older. And here I am sitting, staring at 14 year old me, braces and all, passing the last minute of being 17.

Flick…Flick…Flick…

My eyes move back to my Sleeping Beauty Alarm Clock. The seconds hand is close to the 12 now. I start counting down in a feverish whisper, holding the flame of my lighter constant now.

“Three, two, one…”

Midnight!

March 26th, 2012

Moving the lighter down to the little candle shaped as an “18” that I glued on the bottom of a cup, I hold my breath. I wait for the candle to light and then close my eyes. I don’t wish for anything. Not tonight. Because I am going to fulfill my own wishes from now on.

“Happy Birthday, Jess!”, I whisper to myself and slowly open my eyes to blow out the candle. It leaves me in complete darkness and for a second I sit still, not moving or even daring to breath.

Then I get up, pass the few feet to the light switch blindly and turn on the light one last time. I gather my stuff quietly, careful not to wake my mother in the next room.

I have one big bag, the sports kind in the biggest size they offered at Dick’s Sporting Goods, and a little tribal print backpack, that I found at some cheap store last month. I stare at the candle I blew out only seconds ago and wonder at the small time it takes to pick up my belongings. “My Life”, I think to myself.

I bend down, pick up the candle and slide it in my pocket. I shouldn’t take unnecessary stuff, but I can’t stand to leave this. My key to freedom!

Then I switch off the light, turn and walk out of the door of my room, through the tiny living room and in the kitchen. As quiet as I can manage, I crawl in the far back of one of the kitchen drawers and pull out  the bag I prepared. I stuff it in the big bag, pull the zipper closed and get up as I hear my mother mumbling to herself.

Then the sound of her feet tapping and sliding over the floor has me freeze in the middle of the kitchen, my eyes wide with fear. She tapers past me slowly, not noticing my dark silhouette in front of the streetlight behind the window.

When the bathroom door closes behind her I don’t even waste time on a relieved sigh but rush out the door in only a second. I sprint down the stairs of our apartment building and run down the street until I reach the next corner. Then I turn around, breathing heavily and stare.

I stare at the place I called home for so long. The place I stopped calling home, exactly four years from today. I blink and notice tears in my eyes.

I don’t bother wiping them away as I turn and start walking towards the Highway. “This is gonna be a long night”, I think and pull the big bag’s strap over my head to make it more comfortable to carry. My ride will be a the Highway at exactly 2am, so I hurry, afraid not to make it.

I end up being half an hour early, left with my thoughts on a nearly empty road.

As I finally get into the car with a guy named Sam, or Max, or maybe Bob- a name as simple as his mind- my papers and the tickets weigh heavy in the inner pocket of my jacket. A new passport, my birth certificate, two hundred dollars cash and a bus ticket to Los Angeles are safely hidden there.

“Goodbye”, I whisper as the car starts moving, bringing me towards Denver, more than three hours from the little town I grew up in.

 (A/N: Please tell me if you like it!! I am really excited, so I really hope some people will read and hopefulle enjoy this! It would mean so much to me if you did!)