Across the Globe [COMPLETE]

The Journey Beggins

9TH OF JULY

Emma

Fuck, I'm running around like crazy. I grab some makeup from the vanity, throw it into a little pouch, and shove it into my handbag. Then I run downstairs at full speed, grab my charger off the kitchen island bench, and run back up. I almost knock over Cinthia -the maid- on my way up, so I scream an apology over my shoulder as I'm nearing the top floor.

Back in my room, I open up the suitcase once more, and throw in the charger as well as the white dress with red flowers. I took it out last night, thinking maybe I had too much luggage, but I decided that there's not such a thing as too much luggage. I've packed and repacked this damned bag so many times in the last few days, that I'm starting to lose the little patience I have left..

As I try to close it again, I tell myself this is it, I need to get going. Just as if I called it, fate decides that the zip should get stuck on something.

"For fucks sake!"

I look at the zip, and find a piece of red lace poking out of the side, half tangled in it.

"Fucking fuck, shit!" I cry angrily, "Why are you doing this to me Universe?! This is my fucking favourite thong!" I do not give a shit about anything anymore, so I rip the lace as I pull as hard as I can on the little piece of fabric, and then throw whatever's left of it in the trash can under the desk.

I haul the suitcase off the four-poster bed, and start rolling it towards the door. I curse yet again, drop the bag on the floor, open it, grab the charger and shove it in the handbag. I'm a dork, I do need the charger on me for such a stupidly long flight.

I'm finally on my way down the marble staircase, struggling as I step sideways while holding the heavy bag high enough for it not to hit the steps. Maybe I did pack too much...

Nah, never.

Reaching the bottom, I let out a loud sigh.

"Why wouldn't you have the chauffeur take that down the stairs for you?"

A spring tightens in my back as I hear my father's reproaching tone, my posture going rigid before I can even think about it, my chin going up, my shoulders back. I mentally slap myself, and make my shoulders drop and visibly slouch again as I make an effort to relax my face into a pleasant and cheeky smile.

"Why would I, when I can just do it myself?" I say, not sounding nearly as strong as I intended. Father seems about to complain, but it's like he reconsiders, and just shakes his head lightly instead.

"Where are you going anyways?" He asks.

My blood starts to boil instantly. My jaw clenches, my hand closes into a fist. I consider screaming, punching and kicking at the air to let all my frustration out. It takes all of my willpower to keep my cool, unclench my fist and relax my jaw enough to put another lazy smile on my face. 'I told you, dad' I want to say. 'Don't you remember our conversation about it? Maybe I should have written you an email instead, as you check your phone more often that you check on me.' But I can't say any of that, so I start to slowly roll the suitcase towards the double doors at the entrance.

As I walk past him, I talk as casually as I can manage.

"Told you, I'm going to New Zealand with Sam, I'll see you in a couple of weeks." I say without looking at him.

I hear him tsk, but I keep walking with my chin up, not daring to look back.

"I didn't think you were being serious," he says after a moment.