It’s been three days now since I ran away. As far as I can tell, they’ve stopped looking for me, they now all assume I’m dead. Except Kile. Kile should know I’m alive.
Since I left, I started living with this adorable (and gullible) old lady. She somehow didn’t suspect anything when I told her my “story.” As far as she knows, i’m a homeless girl named Starr. Since then, she’s taken me in, and I’m perfectly comfortable. I feel horrible for tricking her, but there isn’t much else I can do. If I stay as a homeless girl, I won’t be able to change my look enough, and I won’t be able to go back to school.
I wish I could contact my friends. Kile hasn’t sent me a note yet, and I feel horrible for leaving Violetta, Anica, and the rest of our friends behind. I’ll get to see them again, at least. I hope that someday I’ll be able to tell them who I am.
Sometimes I seriously regret leaving. I had a good life, after all. But pressure was starting to get to me. Everyone wanted me to become a doctor or a lawyer, and I don’t. My parents were starting to get mad at me when I took part in something that wouldn’t help my “future career.” I wanted to be a teacher, though.
I guess it made no sense to my friends why I would “die.” After all, to them my life is the best. I lived in a mansion, I had no siblings, and my parents were (mostly) very supportive of me. I got good grades, and I was one of the most popular in the school. But I’d managed to keep a lot of my life hidden. Such as the fact that I have an older brother. Joshua. He’s 25, so I rarely ever see him now. Actually, I’ve only seen him once in my life. When I was five years older. Some brother.
“Starr?” the grandmother called.
“Yes ma’am?” I called back.
“Come down here, I have food. And don’t call me ma’am, call me...Grandma. Because you remind me of my granddaughter,” Grandma said.
“Okay Grandma. I’ll be right down!” I called. I quickly grabbed a brush and combed my hair; it had gotten frizzy from lying down on my bed for a long time. I walked downstairs, and was greeted with an incredible smell.
I want waffles, I thought. It was early morning, and no one else was awake yet. I got up and crept towards the kitchen, careful to not wake my younger sister Emmy. I grabbed the waffle mix and got out the iron, ready to pour, when my mother walked in the room. I froze.
“Kile? What are you doing up?” my mother asked.
“I’m making waffles,” I responded. It must have been strange for her, considering that I was never up early, and always had to be coaxed out of bed for school. My mother, on the other hand, was an early riser, mostly because by father always left for work early, which woke her up. I also never volunteered around the house, and never bothered to make my own food.
Basically, I was lazy.
So for my mother to see me up early? And making breakfast? That was completely backwards.
Well, I suppose the world is backwards right now.
After all, everyone thinks Elysia’s dead.
And I’m the only one who knows otherwise.
What am I going to do?
School that day was just as bad as the past few days. Still the sympathy from those who knew I was Elysia’s friend, and the same old sadness hanging over the whole school.
I really wanted to tell Violetta that Elysia wasn’t dead. But Elysia told me not to tell anyone, plus I don’t think Violetta would have believed me. After all, Violetta has always been firmly rooted in the truth, and doesn’t like anything remotely close to a lie. So I chose not to.
Our friend group had been breaking up slowly since Elysia left. I did my best to hold it together, but I was only close with two of the five remaining girls, plus Luce. So, there wasn’t much I could do except try to convince the group to stay together.
Nobody listened to me.
Well that’s great.
What’s going to happen when Elysia comes back to school?