I watched her for some time, just watched, nothing else. Such a strange looking girl, with her long white hair and plain delicate features, with such a strange over sure attitude. She seemed experienced at this...running away I mean. She was all...frank and seemed to know so much.
I don't know how I could be so at ease with her. It was like I'd known her for centuries, like we were old chums, sitting back in a bus ride on our way to camp...though I wouldn't know how that felt, not really, Id never had a friend like that. I thought most people kept the whole, "I’m running away" thing as a secret, but, she was so relaxed about the whole affair, it was slightly unnerving and yet strangely reassuring .
"Bree." I said her name in my head a few times. "Isn’t that a brand of cheese?..." I thought to myself.
I stared out of the window for a couple of minutes, playing word association with myself in my head. "Cheese....mice like cheese...mice get chased by cats...cats have big eyes...all the better to see you with..." Again and again forming new connections, till from "Bree" I came to "chalk powder". It was then I realized I still had my mobile, mostly because it began frantically yelling at me to pick it up. Why in my right mind would I carry my cell?!?! ...Oh right, because I don’t HAVE a “right” mind. I’m always wrong.
Like an alert alarm, Bree was up.
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH A PHONE?!" She yelled. "You never carry a phone when you’re running away! What, do you want them to find you?!?!" But before she could stop yelling, I had instinctively flipped the phone open.
"WHERE THE **** ARE YOU!" My brother. Crap, why didn't I remember to destroy my phone. Bree stared at me like you do a mutated animal in the zoo. Not only had I carried a phone, but I’d even bothered to pick it up! Stupid!
He was yelling loud enough for almost the entire train to hear through the speaker. I already knew what he was going to tell me, that I was useless to the family, that I’m a stupid git, and now the rest of the world did too.
My dad grabbed the phone. He was holding back his anger, I could tell from the tone in his voice.
"Where the hell have you gone for a stroll to at 2:30 in the morning?" I could almost hear his teeth gritting together on the speaker. I couldn’t answer; I just started my usual stutter. My "Ums" and "Uhs"
"STOP THAT NONSENSICLE BABBLE AND GIVE ME A STRAIGHT ANSWER!"
I couldn't speak. What do I do, what do I say? I was beginning to panic, I could feel the fear grip me, tantalizing me to fall on my knees and cry over the phone. It was then Bree took my phone, and yelled...at my dad...the most feared man in the city ..."SHUT UP !!!!", before removing the sim card and throwing it out the window.
"We'll sell the phone to get some money." She said, examining the relatively new model. She looked at me amused. “You’re not very experienced at this, are you?”
I shook my head.
“Don’t bother about those people any more. They’re from a past that don’t matter and don’t exist.”
She looked at me for some time; I couldn't tell what she was thinking. She just smiled and repeated, "Wake me up ok?"
It was strange, like it had become some unspoken rule not to talk about it; any of it, our reasons, our past, anything. It was all a distant life that mattered no more. We were new people, with no past to look to for guidance, but a future with more obstacles than we could overcome.