To Go

She was hiding in the attic when she heard the gunshots from below. Three of them, breaking the silence. She covered her mouth and muffled her own sobs.

She could hear the loud footsteps, the doors opening, the voice yelling “Corridor clear!”, “Master clear!”. She knew they were searching the rooms. They wouldn’t be looking for her though because no one even knew she existed.

Her “father” was a drug dealer, well a supplier. She’d been told her mother had overdosed just days after giving birth to her in the bedroom of a run down rental. Her mother's body was tossed in the river and she was raised by him and his various girlfriends through out the years. She wasn’t educated the way most kids would be, but schooling was just whatever courses she could access online. She was loved and fed, just hidden is all. Her father said they couldn’t have authorities digging into where she came from.

When her father saw the blue lights flashing outside the house that night he sent her to the attic and she knew the drill. He never stored drugs there so the cop’s K9’s would never lead them in that direction. She was trembling, she couldn’t hear her father after the gunshots. She knew he would never shoot an officer, “Brings more trouble than it’s worth.”, He’d say. But why would they shoot him? He’d prepared her for a time such as this, just in case. She knew how long to wait out the different scenarios, but had never experienced the influx of emotions triggered by hearing the gunshots.

The questions kept flooding her mind, “Is he dead?”, “What happened?”, “Should I come out?”, “Can I move?”, “Will they hear me?”, so many she couldn’t even form an answer. As the hours slowly passed she curled up on the cot and hid beneath the blanket, riding it out. After what seemed like an eternity of her mind buzzing, and after no more tears would fall, exhaustion took over and forced her to sleep.

She woke late the next day, it was light and she didn’t want to move. She could hear footsteps downstairs that sounded like heavy boots. Her mind kept saying “He’s dead”.

Under the cot was a backpack her father had left. She had never once touched it. He told her it was her “To go” bag. Beside it was a box of snacks with granola bars, trail mix, water bottles and her favorite black jellybeans. She wasn’t hungry yet, or maybe just didn’t feel it despite her stomach saying otherwise. She couldn’t stop thinking about her father. I mean, yeah, she didn’t have a “normal” childhood, but he was always good to her. She knew she was loved. She didn’t touch the bag. She curled back up under the blanket and let the tears paint her cheeks until she fell asleep again.

She woke in the darkness surrounded by silence. How deafening it can be at times! “Must be nighttime”, she thought. She couldn’t hear anything in the space below. She took the flashlight that was stashed beneath her pillow and tried to oh, so slowly press the button to turn it on. CLICK. She jumped, startled by the sound which in turn made her laugh at the absurdity of it all. Looking around she started to realize it had been more than 24 hours since the gunshots. He had never been gone more than 24 hours in her whole 17 years of life. No matter what happened, he paid the best lawyers and got out every time.

The reality started to set in that this was the “To go” time he talked about. Anxiously, and hesitantly, she reached beneath the cot and pulled out the bag. It was heavier than she thought, not that it was full of bricks, but she always assumed it was just a change of clothes inside. It was a very nice leather backpack, well made, with zippers on all the pockets. She started to check the outside pockets first. Opening the first one she reached in and grabbed what felt like a piece of hard plastic, she looked at it with the flashlight and saw a picture of her face. She paused for a moment before realizing what it was. It was a drivers license. Her father had taken her driving and taught her how to, but would not bring her into any government related businesses. Fear paralyzed her momentarily. His words played out in her head. “When the time comes to go, do it confidently. This world is yours, my girl”. She dug into the same pocket again, there was a passport, a birth certificate and a credit card. The next pocket had a can of mace and she laughed.

She decided to open the main zipper. When she did there was a piece of paper on top of other items and envelopes. The paper read, “There are 10 envelopes each containing $2000 in 20/50/100 bills. There is a loaded gun with extra clips. Safety is on, so don’t fret. Beneath this all you’ll find a small black notebook. Before you try to leave here you must read it. I’ve written down all the steps from how to get out of the attic, to how to order and pay for the plane ticket you will need. Do not spend more than $1000 on clothing and necessities for now, you will need the rest of the $20,000 to get to your destination. Just remember to follow the steps in the small black notebook and you’ll have everything you could ever need. This world is yours my girl. I love you”.

As hot tears left impressions of her pain on the letter she'd just read, she realized that he really was gone, and it really was time to go.