Page 44 of Finding London

My heart shatters beneath my aching chest. I can’t believe I never saw my reality for what it was. I suppose I had to believe—at least when I was younger—so I would have the strength to get through each horrible day. Maybe my mind is finally ready to accept the truth because I’m old enough now.

I don’t need to suffer in these homes until I’m rescued. I need to save myself.

Complete clarity envelops me. For the first time since I stepped foot in Dwight and Stacey’s home when I was seven years old, I have control—or at least, I will.

I don’t bother to say anything else to Bev as I step around her and march to my makeshift bedroom, which also houses the thirty-year-old washer and dryer. I shoot a quick glance behind me to see if anyone followed me. I’m relieved when I see that no one is there. It wouldn’t have mattered, but it just makes things easier.

Before reaching my sleeping space, I duck into Sarah’s room. “Hey,” I whisper.

Startled, Sarah whips her head up from the book she’s reading. Her long, curly strawberry-blonde hair swooshes over her shoulders, and her big blue eyes are open wide.

“I’m leaving. Come with me.”

I don’t know why I’m including Sarah in my plans. I need to focus on myself. But something deep in my gut tells me not to leave her here. This place is slowly killing her. I barely know her, but I know that much.

“I…I can’t.” She shakes her head.

“Look, I don’t really have a plan, but we’ll figure it out. I don’t want to leave you here, alone…with Carl.”

Her body visibly shudders when I say his name.

“Please come with me. I won’t hurt you. Grab a bag. Pack the essentials—clothes, toiletries, your personal stuff, a jacket, and maybe a blanket, if you can fit it. Just get what you can carry. We’re leaving in ten minutes.”

She stands, and I exit her room before heading to mine.

This is insane. My behavior is completely reckless, yet this is the happiest I’ve been in a long time. Hope grows in my chest, and it’s not of the delusional variety. I’m taking control of my life, and regardless of what happens when I leave this house, it will be of my doing. Who knows? Maybe I’ll starve to death. But who freaking cares? It will be because of my actions and no one else’s.

I feel a wave of caution come over me as I think about the fact that I’m involving Sarah in my rebellion. But then I realize that she’d probably rather starve to death than stay here with Carl any day.

I’ve packed up all my belongings into a backpack and my duffel bag. I’ve even managed to swipe a blanket and pillow. Something tells me that I’m going to be glad I did.

In the bathroom, I find several unopened toothbrushes, a brand-new tube of toothpaste, deodorant, and shampoo, so I take them, too. I have no idea what I’m doing, but I’m trying to think of things that I’ll want the most while homeless. I realize that food will probably be at the top of that list, but I know that good old Bev isn’t going to let me raid her pantry when I leave, so I’ll have to figure out the food issue later.

When I pack everything that I think I need—at least the items I have access to—I meet Sarah in her room.

“You ready?” I say in a low voice.

She looks terrified, but she nods her head.

“I got some bathroom things, but did you grab stuff that you’ll need, like a brush or something?” I have no idea what goes into being a girl, but looking at Sarah’s hair, I know a brush must be involved.

She nods again.

She’s so sweet. I hardly know her, but I feel like it’s my duty to protect her. I think that involves being honest.

“Look, I don’t know if I mentioned this before, but when we leave, we’re probably going to be homeless.” I think that seems important to mention.

The corners of her lips turn up slightly, and if I’m not mistaken, for Sarah, that’s like a smile.

“I know,” she answers quietly.

“And you still want to come?” I decide to give her an out.

She nods once more.

“And you packed everything you think you’ll need for a life on the street?” Okay, I admit I’m being a bit dramatic.

For all I know, we’ll be picked up by the police before we get a mile away. But the mere chance that we won’t is so exciting.

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