My Classified Life

Chapter Thirty-Four: What Now?

What Happens Now?

That was the question everyone was asking, or at least me.

What Happens after you find out that your kinda boyfriend is really using you in some big plan in order to most likely kill your sister?

How the hell would I know is the better question!

The next morning, I woke up at an unimaginable hour, horrific really, and set off downstairs at 7:00 to find my mom and ask her that very question. I tipped toed about the house in my fluffy socks, trying to be quiet, as I searched for her in her office. Nothing.

I continued to wander the house, my mind subconsciously guided me to the trophy room, or as I liked to call it, our library. The walls lined with books that gave off that old timey smell and the aroma of dust filled the air, mom apparently didn't have time for cleaning anymore. When I walked in the big lazy boy armchair had it's back to me and only the top of my mom's brown head peaked above it.

“Mom?” I whispered as I approached her, she looked like she had been sitting in that chair for hours, her eyes baggy and eyelids sagging as she turned to look at me.

“Yes?” she sat up a little straighter in her chair and set the hand she had been using to prop her head up, down on the armchair.

“What are we gonna do now?” I said, meek and as timid as I felt. Her eyes searched mine, she gave me a kind of look that only a parent can give you. The kind where they smile at you, their own thoughts fueling their happiness as they think about how they used to be like you, used to talk that way, and how they're now an adult. A kind of sad smile, like they only now just realized how many years have gone by.

“We are going to run.” She said it so simply, like it was just what she was making for lunch. Like it didn't change everything. But, I guess, everything had changed already.

“For how long?” was my next question.

“As long as it takes until we come up with a solid plan.”

“How long is 'As long as it takes'?” I took the liberty of air quoting her, I wanted a definite answer.

“I'm not sure.” How convenient.

“Run, like as in always on the move?”

“More like hiding, staying somewhere for small amounts of time.” she explained, hand rubbing her face, I could tell she'd lost sleep over this decision. My mom wasn't the type of woman to back down from a fight, none of us where. I seemed to be the only one who liked to run, away from my problems of course. It was simpler than dealing with them.

“Where?” my endless questions kept coming, she should have been annoyed, but my mom understood. In response, she used her hand and lazily pointed to a globe that we kept at the top of one of our shelves, it was old and tinted yellow. Most likely, according to that globe, Czechoslovakia was probably still a country.

“Why don't you pick..”

Pick? She can't really expect me to that, can she? I would never be able to do it. Which was why, I took the globe, set it down on the table next to her chair and spun it. After closing my eyes shut I pointed out my finger and jabbed it at the globe, stopping it completely and almost knocking the old thing off it's axis. When I opened my eyes, I expected my finger to be out in the middle of the Atlantic ocean, but no.

My finger landed right on Big Ben.

It was all settled, we packed up for London that day, mom allowed us only one suitcase and promised we would be able to wash our clothes. I packed the essentials, jeans, tees, comfy shoes, and warm jackets. I threw in the dress I bought in Japan, just in case I would need something formal. My bag was packed and ready, with my satchel slung over my shoulder holding my other teenage girl essentials, iPod, phone, laptop, a book, thoset sorts of things, I came downstairs and started to snack on some crackers in the kitchen. Christina came down slower, she had taken the time to sort through all her clothes and be sure she had outfits and not just random pieces.