5~~ I Don't Do Codes
"Half a pound of Tuppenny rice
Half a pound of treacle
That's the way the monkey goes
Pop! goes the weasel!"
I whistle as I hand the cashier the "fished" credit card. I watch her as she does whatever she does best. I begin tapping my foot against the floor rather impatiently.
Don't say it Samantha, that tale is old. Keep quiet. Don't voice it out. Keep mute, collect your bagels. Just don't talk...
I purse my lips in a thin line and when I just couldn't hold in my patience any longer, I burst out.
"A girl walked up to me sometime ago and said and I quote 'what should I do? Accidental suicide Or drunk driving?' You want to know what I said?", I ask the cashier who is not really interested in what I have to say
"I'd rather you not tell me miss, you have paid for the bagels, here is your receipt. Please leave now, there's a long line behind you"
"Okay, since you begged me to tell you so dearly, I'll oblige only because I am so nice", I continue, not giving any attention to the pleas of the cashier for me to stop.
"I told the young lady accidental suicide because let's face it. Drunk driving is not the surest way to die. For all I know, she may end up killing someone else and go to jail. Worst case scenario, she doesn't even die. So after telling her that, you won't believe what she did"
I say, ignoring the low grunts from the individuals behind me. I just can't help talking. I'm a talkative no doubt.
"She gasped and gave me a horrified look and I said 'what' and she said 'I thought you are my friend' and I scoffed because I've only known this girl for like what? Thirty minutes max and so she went on saying stuffs like 'oh you're supposed to tell me don't do that', 'oh you're going to die' or 'what's wrong'. I mean I'm no fucking therapist and if you didn't want to die, why did that thought cross your mind in the first place?".
At this point, the cashier was on the verge of calling security and the other customers were starting to get aggravated. Some were already cursing at me. I trust myself to only frustrate them more.
"Hey watch it, no swearing! Can't you see kids everywhere?", I yell at them to purposely infuriate them.
Soon enough, I see four Federal Bureau of Investigation agents (FBIs) and six Military Intelligence, section 6 (MI6) and I take that as my cue to run.
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The MI6 is a secret intelligence service commonly the foreign intelligence service of the government of the United Kingdom, tasked mainly with the convert over seas collection and analysis of human intelligence in support of the UK's national security. Just as the FBI is for the United States, so is the MI6 for the United Kingdom.
The MI6 and the FBIs evolved alongside one another, but their relationship hasn't been constructive. But ever since the FBI agents heard about the escapade from the prison, they have worked hand in hand to catch all the criminals that escaped. So far they have captured all criminals except me and Tallulah.... Hopefully.
It's been four years since the escapade from jail.
For four years I've been running. I sleep in fear, I eat in fear. I live in fear.
I take a step but not without checking my back ten times. Luckily I haven't been caught. Hopefully I find the real killer before being caught.
I know tons of mere civilians search for me as a result of the huge reward behind it. Over the years, I've developed a strong skill in disguise and stealth.
Many of you might think or expect me to be ruthless or wicked, surely, I want to inflict pain on the person who caused me this pain but that it's.
Okay, I don't have the courage to inflict pain on anyone. I just want to slap the person so hard and send him or her back to prison.
I'm still the happy-go-lucky girl or rather woman of yester years but you can say I've changed a ton. Of course I still dress and act like a boy, I mean it's inborn and my love for soccer has increased ten folds.
But you can notice the way my eyes are hard, lacking the emotions. My skin is tough, part of the torture from the two years in jail. I go home every Christmas to see my mother but I only stay for nothing less than three minutes.
For me being just two decades and half a dozen years(26), I sure have traveled far and beyond. Ever since I left jail four years ago, it's been a rollercoaster of adventure. From Russia to Venice, from Thailand to Texas, from England to Canada, from Ireland to Nigeria, from South Africa to Japan. From China to Greece, from Trinidad and Tobago to Switzerland. Now I'm in Mexico, trying to get to Croatia with no inkling how.
For four years, I've been the hunted, with the hunter getting close to catching his game. No luck either on finding the killer. I mean I have no clue who the killer is other than the facts that he/she has grey eyes and a crescent shaped tattoo on the back neck.
I'm haunted by dreams of that very day I stepped foot into Asher's room and wonder what would have become of me if I didn't. Perhaps I'd have been the world's best female footballer. I smile sardonically at the irony... I am the world's best "killer" ain't I?
As I race through the streets, looking at my compass momentarily, I notice an empty, rather looking posh car and abruptly stop in my tracks. I'm barely out of breath as I'm already used to running so much.
I look around and when no one notices me, I cockily try opening the door and voila! It does open.
"Who leaves an expensive car open and unguarded?", I murmur.
I hastily look around before gingerly slipping into the driver's seat. I look around to see if I can find any useful thing to me.
I see a pair of gloves and put it on.
"I don't want to leave no fingerprints"
Despair fills my stomach as I find nothing, but something so green catches my eye. I pick it up and my eyes widen. It's an American green card.
"Omg this is Gold!", I mutter to myself while munching care freely at my bagels.
"I wonder who owns this?", I voice out my thoughts. I tend to always do. I open it and scowl at the name.
"Eric Wilder!", surely, the name sounds oddly familiar.
I see a passport by the side.
"His face is also striking a familiar cord within me. The name is just so familiar. Ugh why is it skipping my mind?", I question myself.
"Ugh this bagels are so good but not as good as mother's cookies. Speaking of mother, I'll have to call her. I don't even have a cell phone. Imagine. I own five different houses in different countries. More than forty five billion dollars in my account and ever since my father died, I've had extra as a result of my inheritance, yet I don't even have a phone. I've been subdued to 'fishing' for survival. So sad", I mutter to myself while chuckling a bit
"Well I don't see any plane tickets here but this green card could be of great use", I say taking it and leaving...unnoticed.
I pocket the green card and walk to a phone booth. On the second ring mother answers.
"A black mother bird", mother whispers
"I have told you times without number I don't do codes", I whisper yell at her through the phone.
"See only you will reply me like that. Others will be confused. How are you?"
"Today I'm jumpy and nervous", I say biting my lips.
"Baby, it will be over soon", mother says heartily.
"I hope so mom. How's Jack?"
"Oh he's good. His wife is also good and the twins are grown too. They'll be five tomorrow. Jayden and Jaylen"
"Oh"
"Sweetie what's wrong. You never had any romantic feelings for him did you?"
"No mother it's nothing. It's just I never had... I'm just... I could have been married too. I could have been the one world's best footballer. I could have had a kid or two whose passion for football would be as strong as mine, I could..."
"Princess I know and I understand how you feel..."
"No! Don't tell me you know how I feel. Just don't tell me that crappy shit okay? Take a good look at me, I'm not getting any younger, I'm not. The other day I spotted a grey hair. I'm only 26 and a grey hair?"
Oh shit! I hate being so emotional.
"You're still young Nadine Montero and I will not..."
"Bye mom!", I say in a clipped tone before breaking down to tears after hanging up. I'm not supposed to cry because of the contact lens but right now, I don't give a shit.
"Hey young lady!", a small voice calls. I look up and clean my tears. I study the old hag and notice her holding a flight ticket. It says Australia.
Hmm!
I haven't been there. Maybe I can fish this out of her hand. Getting a disguise that looks like her should not be so hard.
"What's your name young one?", the woman asks, putting the tickets in her bag. This woman should be in her early 60s. Is she a spy?
Getting the tickets from her bag now is going to be a piece of cake.
"I'm Catherine", I lie smoothly.
"Nice to meet you Catherine, I'm Georgina but my grand kids call me Gina. So what's your problem dear. Why are you crying?", she asks. I stand up and begin crying again. This time fake tears.
I fall on her shoulders and she pats me on the back. I smirk and coyly fished the flight tickets away from her. She didn't notice. Maybe she isn't a spy.
"My mom and dad got a divorce two weeks ago. They were to go to court this morning but they died in a brutal car accident. With me unable to pay rent, I was kicked out of the house", I sob again.
This is what Asher's killer has subjected me to. Lying and fishing. I won't call it stealing, I don't steal. I fish.
"Oh dear. Do you think you can come with me to Australia. I mean my grand kids are away, my kids are also away. I could really use some company? And you can stay for as long as you want"
"Who are you?", I ask bewildered
"I'm a philanthropist and what are you still doing with your parents? Shouldn't you be preparing for marriage or in your own house at least?"
Real fresh tears rush to my eyes. I am still young! People way older than me are still single. What is the problem with society and attaching age and young girls to marital status?
Ugh!
Didn't you just rant on to your mother about how old you're getting?
"I didn't grow up with my real parents. They died while I was still little. My real mom, after child birth, my real dad, suicide", I unkowingly blurt out the lie.
"I'm really..."
"Please don't be", I say
"How about we get you that ticket?", she smiles.
"Oh thank you so much Mrs Gina", I say hugging her tightly and slipping her flight ticket back. I mentally give myself a pat at the back for a job well done
As we head to the airport in her car, my impatience kicks in again.
Just try to keep mute. Samantha keep mute. Ah forget it...
"You know when I was little, I used to play soccer. In fact I still do. My mother says when I kicked her, it was always hard", I giggle genuinely at the memory.
"But you just told me your birth mother died during child birth"
See yourself Samantha? When you can't fucking shut the hell up.
"My aunt, which is my birth mother's twin sister told me so. So I just refer to her as my mother", I lie easily, giving her sweet smile.
"Really! Tell me how your child hood was", she says, obviously enjoying my story.
As we drive to the airport and I tell my story, I envision my self back in high school, with my friends and I going for practice and Jack making fun of my boyish attitude.
And for the first time in four years, I relish this moment. I engrave it in my memory. I feel a sense of freedom.
For the first time in four years, I'm happy and relieved I conducted the escapade.
A/N
Author: I noticed that there are so many descriptions and less dialogues in this chapter.
Gina: that's all you noticed? Man I nearly choked on the amount of errors
Samantha: the only thing she is good at is making my life a living hell. Hmph!
Isabella: here we go again!
Author: your life has only just begun, you haven't seen anything.
Gina: is no one bothered about the fact that I'll soon fade away like Tallulah?
Samantha: honestly no.
Author: get used to the fact that random characters will appear and disappear
Samantha: at least give me a steady character. What sort of tom boy doesn't have a best friend
Author: you do! You just don't accept Jack as your best friend. I mean it's your story line and you refused to mention that fact that your mom and his mom have been childhood friends, you grew up together, went to the...
Samantha: the readers are smart enough to figure it out and besides I did mention it earlier. Didn't I?
Isabella: I'm beginning to think that the day the sky is purple, that's the day you guys will not quarrel.
Gina: I'm starving and I heard that your cookies are the best.
Isabella: *looks at the bickering two* sure why not. Come with me.
Author: hey give the vote of thanks *gets ignored* fine I'll do it.
Samantha: *buts in quickly* thank you guys for reading and..
Author: *shoves her away* oh no you don't. And thank you guys for voting
Both: *shoves each other* and please *grunts* share if possible *more grunts* don't forget to comment please. We love you.
Samantha: just shut the fuck up lemme do it, you're chasing them away.
Author: no you get the fuck out of here lemme tell them to stay safe, you're the one chasing them away.
Both: please do stay safe *pushing continues in the background as light fades on them*
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