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“I didn’t know teenagers went here just for a quick meal,” she said, chuckling. “I guess I’m not the only one.”

“What do you mean?” I asked her. She sighed and shook her head. “It’s personal, don’t worry about it,” she said, looking away from me and at the glistening white counter.

“So, something personal causes you to come to this diner a lot?” I asked her, and she nodded but hesitantly. “Well, I’m dealing with something very personal too,” I said, giving a quick smile. I’m not very sure if that was going to make her feel better though, but it’s worth a try.

“How personal?” she asked, her head facing towards me once again. I chuckled and widened my eyes. “Very personal, and this diner seemed like a place of refuge for me in a sense.”

She nodded and she smiled at me. “That’s sounds like me,” she said, chuckling which her laugh affected me, and cause me to snicker myself.

Silence followed the room shortly after, I knew I had to end the silence.

“So, maybe, if you told me your problem, and I told you mine, maybe we can bond or something, just saying,” I said, to which she chuckled once again, but this time she seemed a bit uncomfortable.

That might’ve been the wrong move.

.....

But then suddenly, she said, “My parents didn’t like the way I was. In a sense, I was always getting in trouble, fighting with other people, and dealing with the police. You know, all the bad stuff.”

She stopped for a moment, but then continued her story.

“My parents said that they were done, that if I didn’t change, they were going to force me to change somehow,” she said. “I’ve never seen my parents so ashamed, so disappointed. Especially my mom. My mom… just despised every part of me. Who I was, and what I did. It hurt. It hurt bad,” she said.

“I can tell,” I responded quietly.

“I can remember days when Mom will see me come home from school, and even when I didn’t get in trouble, she would be like: So what did you do now? I just—I couldn’t deal with it. But I loved my parents,” she said. “One thing I’ve learned is, the only ones that keep you really care about you.”

But she quickly shook her head after that. “But now, my parents are on that same list of people who don’t give a care in the world.”

Silence took the room again until I mustered up some strength to ask, “Is there anyone who still cares about you?”

She smiled as if this was supposed to be funny, and she looked up at me. “Myself,” she said, as her confidence boomed in her voice. “I’m the only person on that list that cares about myself.”

“Well, that’s because it’s you,” I said. “Of course, you would care about yourself.”

“Well I want what’s best for me, and since no one else does, I might as well take that responsibility. What about you? Do you have anyone that cares about you?” she asked me.

I sighed. “A lot of people. My mom, my dad, my ‘uncle’, my friends, and a lot of people.”

“So how come you’re here?”

I looked around. The lights stood still, anticipating the chapter of this story. “I’m a bit lost,” I said. “In fact, very lost. Very far away from the place that I can call home. And being that this is New York, it’s only me and I that can care for myself.”

She nodded, as I continued on.

“It hurts when you know there are people right now that are scared and frantic about where you are, or what happened to you. It hurts very much. Because you think, ‘If only I could tell them right now, imagine how much pain and anguish would flee from their minds. You know what I mean?”

She nodded. I could already feel the tears beginning to well up in my eyes as I continued speaking. The devastation choking me inside, the feeling of fear that was clouding my mind, was already beginning to dwell inside of me.

“Preferably, if there was a phone that I could use just to talk to them just one more time, that would be the whole world to me.”

All of a sudden, I found myself looking at a phone that was stretched towards me, as I looked up, and saw her face that showed sympathy.

“Here, call them,” she said, moving her hand a bit to push my attention back to her phone. I shook my head. “Don’t worry, it’s a very long story. I can’t really use your phone, it would threaten your safety.”

“I can take care of myself. What is there to lose, I’ve already lost everything, might as well.”

I shrugged, a bit hopeful in that moment, but all of a sudden, the little, faint sound of a bush shaking caught my attention.

It caught hers too, as we both looked outside of the window. Suddenly, the man asked, “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, I think so,” I said.

Silence followed right after, but our suspicion was still high on alert. The man looked around worriedly as if he knew something was wrong as well.

The tension continued to climb, as eyes darted around the room, waiting for something to happen.

But nothing happened—luckily.

I laid back and took a deep breath, but at that point, the glass shattered, as a bullet punctured the wall that was ten feet from me.

My eyes widened and froze from the shock.

“Get down!” I shouted as bullets began to fly in packs, and belt through the room. The walls were punched with holes, as I covered my head from the incoming bullets that sprayed all over the place.

“What’s going on?!” the man shouted. But all of a sudden, the cash register on the table crumbled into pieces as the bullets crushed it into pieces.

“We gotta get out of here!” she said, looking back, her face widened with shock and fear.

Then she looked at me, her eyes narrowed and focused. “Don’t ask okay?” she said, and all of a sudden, a gun was brought from her belt.

Where did she get that from?!

I didn’t have time to ask, because she immediately sped for the door. I quickly followed after her, but I stopped real quick.

The least I could do was warn the guy.

“Get in your car and run away!” I shouted, and the man nodded and took off.

But then, I felt the woman tap my shoulder, gesturing that we should go right now. She quickly unloaded a few shots at the attacking enemy, before she opened the door, and unloaded a few more.

“Go, go!” she shouted, moving her head towards the right, which I nodded and booked it over there. There was my station wagon, and there was a red car parked right beside it.

“The red car?!” I shouted, and she nodded before she returned to shooting back at the enemy.

I quickly opened the driver’s door and jumped inside, and this time there was a button which was a relief. I at least didn’t have to do the whole process of turning on the ignition.

The car roared into life, as I pulled out from the parking space, and quickly sped towards the girl’s location.

She looked at me and quickly saw her escape. She began to run towards me, while still shooting at the enemies shooting at us.

She opened the door, in which two bullets shot through the window, and shattered the glass onto the seat.

She swept it off and jumped in the car, and I quickly pushed on the gas pedal. The car revved in power and shot forward, but I could catch a little glimpse of one of the people shooting at us.

He turned around, and he seemed to notice me because his eyes widened large enough that his eyelids were hidden from sight by his mask.

Those were the TSA. They found out that I escaped, and they immediately knew my location.

Quickly, I pulled into an alleyway, then drove into an intersection. I stopped, my heart pumping as if it was about to blow up.

“Shoot, I’m sorry I dragged you into this,” she said.

“I was about to say that,” I said, now confused and a bit curious now. She turned to me, her head tilted as she asked, “Are you being chased by the TSA?”

“Are you?”

We both slowly nodded to each other’s questions, realizing what we both just said.

“How do you know what the TSA is?” I asked. “And how are you getting chased?”

“I should ask you that question!”

“We should both ask each other that question, but I asked first, so you tell me first.”

“Well based on those two briefcases you’re holding, I think it’s best you go first.” I chuckled, but narrowed into an annoyed frown. “What’s your name?” I asked her strictly, to which she answered with a heavy breath, “Brie.”