"What do we do now? They're gone!" I said when the reality hit me. "The nearest gas station is a few miles from here. We could walk till there and ask for help," the driver said. So we started walking. The sword-man had attacked the driver just below the knee, so his left leg was bleeding. My dad and I were unscathed. I was walking barefoot on the rough road which was littered with stones here and there.
We had walked for one and a half miles when two men sped past us on their motorcycle. We shouted for them to pass but they just went on. A few minutes later though, the motorcycle was coming towards us. The men asked us why we were walking on such a deserted road so late at night.
I was wearing a loose maroon top with black leggings. My dad was dressed in his office suit. The driver was wearing a plain white shirt with black trousers. The men looked us up from head to toe.
We told the men what had happened to us. They immediately called the police and told them about our incident. The police found us in half an hour. I still remember that when we sat in the police van, my dad had tears in his eyes and he merely whispered, "Our future is ruined." I assured my father that our future wasn't ruined and that every great man has gone through some tragedy and this was ours. "I'll make you proud, I promise," I said, hugging my dad tightly.
***
17 hours had passed since we had left Memphis. We had checked in a hotel in Washington DC for 3 days. "What do you want for dinner?" my dad asked. "Anything," I replied. He ordered some rice and clear chicken soup for us. I drank my soup and ate a few morsels before puking everything out.
"It's okay. It's due to shock. You should go to sleep. I'll clean it, " my dad gently said. I dropped on the bed and slept for 14 hours straight. I occasionally had nightmares during my sleep and my dad soothed me to sleep. I had very disturbing dreams. In one of them, my dad got shot and his blood splattered onto me. In another one, the driver's leg was completely severed from his body and he was writhing in pain.
When I finally woke up and got dressed, dad suggested we shop for some clothes and essentials. I was barefoot, so we went to buy a pair of slippers for me. I bought a cheap pair of slippers to save my dad's money. I knew we didn't have enough in our pocket. I then bought 2 night suits and a pair of shorts with a top to go with it. My dad suggested that I bought a pair of shoes or at least a belle but I said a straight no for it.
We then bought a pair of shorts and 2 T-shirts for my dad. My dad was going to borrow a suit from a colleague of his who had worked on a case with him some years ago for office.
***
43 hours after we had left Memphis, I was at my dad's main office in Washington. I was wearing black ripped shorts with a loose off-white top that showed off my collarbone. "Hey! What's up?" A boy of my age sat down next to me with a coffee can in his hand. "Um..." I didn't know what to say. Who is he? What does he want? "You want coffee? I think you need one," He said. I noticed that his eyes were green. It went well with his mahogany brown hair.
"Uh, it's okay, I'm fine, I-" I started but he cut me off and handed me his coffee. "What about you?" I inquired. "I'll make another for myself," he replied with a smile. Before I could say anything, he went off to make a can of coffee for himself.
"What's your name?" he asked. "Kimora Rent. Yours?" "I'm Jason. Nice to meet you!" Just then, a man in his early 40's called him. "By the way, I work here. I'm a spy for the office. And I'm sorry about what happened to you and your dad. Hope you get over the shock soon." With that, he went off with the man.
I was surprised. I thought that he was my age. Fifteen. I later learnt from dad that he was actually seventeen. It seemed cool to me that he was a spy at such a young age.
***
While we were in the car, driving back home from Washington, dad gave me a piece of big news. "Kim, after I had presented my cases in front of the office, they had made me an offer." A long pause ensued. " What offer, dad?" "They're planning to give me a pay raise. But for that, we'll have to move to India."
My mind went numb when I heard this. I had just gone through a traumatic experience and now I was being blasted off with this news. My mind started thinking about a new school, new friends, new country, new cultures, new languages, new... aargh! I hate transfers!
"Do we have to go, dad?" "Only if you say yes. FYI, I've heard India is a beautiful place and the people there are really nice. You met Jason. He is part Indian and part American." I'd always wanted to visit India once. It looked so fascinating in movies and on Discovery channel. I had even learnt a bit of Hindi, thanks to Adya Raina, my classmate.
Besides, to get over the trauma, the best thing would be to move to a new place, or so I thought. I had assumed that getting busy in shifting would keep my mind off the trauma. I couldn't let myself drown in PTSD like Shirley had when her gay uncle had been shot by an anti-LGBTQ guy during the Pride Parade.
"We'll go. When?" "Next month."
That's when my mind spoke, What will you do of Zane now?
QOTD : How would you deal with PTSD?
YOU ARE READING
Love Escape ✔️
Teen Fiction"Were you scared?" she asked as our foreheads collided together. I shook my head no. I have to act brave and masculine, right? "No. You're lying," she said as she wiped tears off my cheeks and showed me her wet fingers. Wait, I was crying? "I didn'...
