Innocent Murderers

[3] how to be a failure 101

I'm going to New York.

The words circulate my head like a broken record, endless and incessant.

I try to calm my shaking hands as I pack my suitcase, just hours before my flight. I sigh as I stare at the note I wrote my parents, sweet and forgiving. But my plans are far from it. I must be the worst daughter in the world right now, and regret pinches my insides like a knife. I can hear them talking two floors below, muffled voices that I know belong to the people I've hurt.

I know they will never look at me the same. I won't be their daughter anymore, after betraying their trust and arguing with them.

My eyes flit over to the escape route I carefully studied. The window. Not much to study, actually. Just wait until the parents go to bed, in precisely half an hour, throw my suitcase onto the huge oak tree touching my window, and then jump down onto their balcony and onto the trampoline.

I've been trying not to think about it too much, the thought becoming scarier every minute. I close my suitcase triumphantly and pull out my phone.

Hi, just checking to make sure you got home okay. Sorry it's late but I had to spend the whole day cleaning up.

Noah's text makes me smile wide, and a pang of guilt hits me. I'll be leaving him behind. I wipe away a threatening tear and call him.

"Hey, girlfriend." His voice makes me smile.
"Hi, thanks for the message and I understand, my parents were hella angry at me."
"Sorry," He says.
"Don't apologise it was worth it,"
"Ditto,"I can hear the smile in his voice.
"Happy Birthday, sorry I didn't have time to get you a present," I say, walking over to my bed and flopping down on it.
"Just being my girlfriend, is enough." The line goes quiet, "Hey, do you wanna go out tonight?"
The pang of guilt turns into a truck.
"I'm sorry, I'm going to New York in a few hours." I can hear the disappointment.
"Don't worry." He says, I wince.
"Raincheck?" I ask.
"Sure,"His voice is hopeful and I smile to myself, checking the time.
"Shit, I have to go," I say.
"Okay, I'll see you soon," He replies.
"Happy Birthday."

The line goes dead. My hands shake as I hear my parents go to sleep, probably assuming I've done the same. Suddenly, my split second plan seems like a horrible idea. I place the note clearly on my bed and open the window. The hot summer air hits my cheek, and it's now or never.

As planned, my suitcase goes first onto the strong, wide trunk. I grab my phone and my laptop and shove them into a backpack which I sling onto my back before crawling out. I cringe at the bark on my bare thigh before gently nudging the suitcase down onto my parent's balcony. It lands on their outdoor sofa and I grin. One point to Kennedy. I then slide down and use the protruding decorational concrete slab sticking out from the wall above the door to slow my jump. I land with a soft thud on the wood table which I quickly slide down from. The curtains are closed, luckily. 

A few minutes of intense struggling later, I am sat in the taxi I called. My hands are twisted togetherin a nervous manner and I stare out the window, watching my home slip away. I'll be back in a month, but it still seems like a forever goodbye. Like I'll never be coming back.

I push the thought away and concentrate on the passport sat on my knee. It's still barely in date, with a horrifying picture of me taken solely for my one holiday to Orlando, the best memories of my childhood. I remember my dad's gentle but firm grip on my hand as we navigated Disney World and the hesitant smile that took over my mum's features as I begged her to take me on the bigger rides. I wipe away a tear, only just realising how much I'm going to miss my parents.

I've done the wrong thing.

I've messed up big time.

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