Twenty-One.
Time passed quickly after that. Before I knew it, the final exams were done and I'd called up Dad to tell him I was going to move out for a while. There was a pile of clothes, shoes, and other essentials on my bed. Next to them, an intricately designed silver frame holding a picture of Mum and I. Puzzled, I ran my hand through my hair trying to figure out how it was going to fit into my duffle bag. I opened my wardrobe and rummaged through it to find another bag. I found one, and chucked it on the bed next to the pile. That should cover it, I thought.
I sat on the counter downstairs, absent-mindedly sipping on a glass of water, my legs dangling off the edge. Outside, I noticed the postman, stopping by our mailbox. Out of a lack of anything better to do, I wandered out. I pulled the lever on the little red tin box, and the front readily popped open. I sorted through the mail. Dad, Kate, Dad, Dad, advertisements... I paused at a letter addressed to me, in sloppy print.
Inside, I hopped onto the counter again. I carefully tore open the envelope, and pulled out a small piece of lined paper.
" Bec,
I'm going to Portugal. Or maybe Scotland. Probably both. I don't really know yet.
I'll explain when I get back. Here's a key to the apartment. Feel free to stay however long you like. Harry and Tom will look after you- I told them you'd probably come soon.
Hope all exams went well.
Luke, x."
I tipped the envelope and shook it lightly. Out fell a small, silver key. I reached behind my neck and undid my necklace, threading the key onto it to sit next to small pendant already on it. I did the necklace back up, grabbed the envelope and letter, and rushed back upstairs. I stuffed everything into the bags, and ran out the door. Down the street I just managed to jump onto a bus.
I tapped my fingers nervously on my mobile. You'd think I would've gotten your number at one point or another. This bus needed to move faster. A lot faster.
Portugal? Portugal?! You couldn't go to Portugal. How ridiculous. I took out the letter and re-read it about ten times; until I was satisfied I'd drained all meaning out of every single word. I shoved it back into my bag. This couldn't be happening.
Okay, just breathe. I told myself. The world was starting to go fuzzy again. I really had to do something about this the-world-is-going-fuzzy-business. It was starting to worry me more and more. I leaned my head against the window. You couldn't just be gone. I was feeling faint again, a dull, stabbing sensation settling itself into the pit of my stomach. I closed my eyes for just a minute...
&&&.
I heard panicked voices. People talking over the top of each other. Past each other. Through each other. As I opened my eyes, I found myself smack-bang in the middle of what I hoped was Manchester, but couldn't be sure about. A good ten pairs of eyes met mine.
"Uhm..." I stuttered.
"Are you okay?" A middle aged woman asked carefully.
"I think so... What's going on?" I blinked a few times, trying to clear up my vision.
"Well you dropped this envelope," an elderly man replied.
"And we tried to wake you up and tell you." The woman continued.
"But you wouldn't wake up. So we got a bit worried."
I looked outside. The world was still moving. Shit, I thought. The bus was heading back out of Manchester.
"I'm fine." I grabbed the envelope and my bags.
"Thank you so much!" I called as I ran to the front of the bus.
