Tomorrow Girls 5- There and Back Again Chapter 1
There and Back Again
Chapter 1
The October sun peeked through my white lace curtains and shone into my eyes, causing me to stir from my peaceful sleep and roll onto my side, facing my rustic wood wall. After contemplating whether or not to get up and join the people who rise earlier than eleven in the morning, I kick over my floral printed duvet and blankets and let my bare feet fall onto the soft carpeting of my loft bedroom in my family’s Chicago house. I changed out of my gym shorts and purple sweatshirt that I fell asleep in and opted for a pair of ripped jeans and a green T-shirt from a summer camp I attended years ago. I brushed my hair back into a french braid and left my bangs to fall into my face.I made my way down the stairs and into my adjoining living room and kitchen. I stepped onto the shockingly cold floor of my kitchen and trotted over to the sink, where I washed my hands and popped a bagel into the toaster. While waiting for it to finish, I propped my hands against the countertops and leaned forward, looking out onto the lush green grass, covered in frost that melted into water droplets, glistening as the sun shone onto them, making it look like thousands of bright little stars shining up from my lawn. The fog was lifting and revealed more sun that refused to hide itself and, instead, pushed its way through my entire house, brightening even the darkest of places. But my own thoughts, the darkest place of all was something that even the sun couldn’t reach and although it illuminated my entire home it still felt cold and gloomy. I was startled by the sudden pop of the toaster that snapped me out of my thoughts. I crossed over to the left and opened up my fridge, shivering as the cool air poured out onto my skin. I reached for the cream cheese and a knife and began to spread it evenly on both sides of my bagel. I took one half in my hand and brought the other on a plate as I made my way upstairs. On the way to my bedroom I passed my father who just excited the main bathroom. He gave me a kiss on the forehead, passing by me, and headed into his own room. Once I passed through the doorway I set my plate on my dresser and plopped down on my bed. I reached over to my nightstand and grabbed a hold of an open book, flipping to a random page and begun to read. I skimmed over a few pages and felt my eyes go heavy, my hand slumped to my side as I let go of my grip on the book and let my head fall onto the pillow, drifting to sleep.
I felt a splash of water burst into my face as the horn sounded and I dove, headfirst, into the water. I heard the swish sound of water around my ears as my arms slapped the surface and my body turned as I raced to the end. I looked ahead and saw the tiled wall in front of me. I curled my body, pushing my feet against it and took off with the speed it had provided. I swam and swam until the wall came into view again and pushed the last few feet until my hands gripped the pool edge and I came up for air. my hands stroked the cap on my head and I pulled the goggles up to my forehead. A smile spread across my face as the forming droplets dripped down into the pool. For one blissful moment everything felt peaceful.
I woke to the sound of dishes clanking in the kitchen, where presumably my dad was cooking dinner. I brushed the hair out of my face and rolled off the bed, towards my door. I downed a glass of water in the bathroom and walked to the entrance of my parents bedroom. My mom was folding laundry on her bed, the little amount of clothes that my family owned anyway, and looked up when she sensed me coming near the door.
“Did you have a nice sleep, sweetheart?” she asked me. I nodded as a yawn pulled at my jaw. She smiled back at me and turned to folding the sleeves of one her hospital shirts. My parents were both highly trained doctors and were very successful and well-known in all of Chicago. The expectations for my future were that I would follow in my parents footsteps, before the war, that is. But I had other interests in mind, like swimming for example. As much as I loved being my mother's personal student and assistant in training during my childhood, I craved a different career path, the only question was if the war would allow me to have it. I snapped out of my train of thought and looked back at my mother, who had moved onto folding a bunch of hand towels. She was about to pick the basket up in her arms and bring it downstairs to the washing machine when the phone rang on her nightstand. It was a rare occurrence to hear the ringing of our land line, especially since my family was one of the only ones that owned one. The sole reason of us having one was my parents position and value. With the amount of violence that had taken place recently, skilled doctors were not only rare, but vital for the Resistance. My mother drew her eyebrows together, quizzically, but picked up the phone. She raised it to her ear and spoke a soft hello into the speaker. I could hear a muffled reply on the other end, as my mother lowered a shaking hand and extended it to me. Her expression revealed utter shock, as I took the phone in my own hand and lifted it to my ear.
“Louisa, are you there?” My voice stuck in my throat as I failed to find words.
“Evelyn?” I gasped.
“Yes, it’s me” she giggled. My disbelief must have been obvious, because her giggle continued a while. It was an odd sensation to hear one of my closest friends voices, even through a phone, after months of no contact.
“I thought I’d never hear from you!” I admitted. I heard her sigh on the other end, I could’ve sworn that if I saw her right now, she would be shaking her head and looking down at her feet, like she always did when she felt guilty. She must do that a lot lately, there is no shortage of things to feel guilty about.
“I’m so sorry about that.” She mumbled, I could hear a crack of emotion in her voice. “And I’m so sorry that the reason why I called was actually because I need something from you.” She continued. I had to admit, what she said did offend me a little bit, that she called not to talk to her long time friend who she hadn’t spoken to in months, but as soon as the next sentence was spoken through the speaker of the phone that was pressed against my ear, all those feelings went away.
“It’s Mel” She told me. “She’s been taken to CMS” A lump formed in my throat as the words slipped her mouth. There was no way that that could be true, Country Manor School was the one thing that all our families feared, the place that we had risked our lives to escape.
“How is that possible?” I cried, disbelief in my voice.
“Remember when I told you about my parents undying affection for eachother?” She asked. I recalled that moment, she told me all about how her parents were so madly in love that they couldn’t stand to be less than an arm’s length of each other. Whether it was at the dinner table, or walking across the demolished streets of Chicago, they were always hand in hand.
“Yes, I remember” I tell her, still unsure of the relevance this had to Mel’s return to that wretched place.
“My parents actually decided to move away together, without me or Mel.” She explained. “I’m living at _______ house., that’s part of the reason why I couldn’t call you earlier” she admitted. My shock still clouded my judgement, I was sure that this was a prank, it had to be. But if this wasn’t a prank, if my best friend’s sister really had been sent away, how could parents just do that to their child? Even my best friend’s Maddie’s parents who had left to fight with the Resistance had a good reason to leave her, and at least they made an effort to see her. But to abandon their kids, that was something unimaginable for me.
“So what happens now?” I question her, I was done with the guessing games.
“That’s why I called.” She continued. “Louisa, I’m leaving to find her and get her back home.” I heard a pause on the other end as she swallowed, presumably debating whether or not to say the next line. “And I want you to come with me.”
I sat there for no less than ten minutes going over everything that happened in my head. My mother knew well enough to leave me alone in her room, with the curtains drawn to block out any light from coming in. I was interrupted by the sound of my dad yelling for dinner from downstairs for me to come down. I tried to choke down some broccoli and chicken, leaving most of my plate still full. I felt disgusted with myself for wasting perfectly good food, especially when so many people didn’t the access to it; but I felt too sick to my stomach to even think about finishing a meal. I excused myself with a headache and ran up the stairs to my room, shutting the door behind me. I sunk onto my mattress and placed head in my hands, holding back sobs. Not now, I told myself. Now is not the time to cry. I took a breath and leaped towards my closet, not taking a second to think about or regret my decision, in fear of backing out. I swung a backpack onto my bed and started stuffing necessities into it; water, flashlight, cell phone. I took more time than I needed, trying to convince myself of how insane of an idea this was. But I knew I couldn’t talk myself out of it, I had to do this. I rubbed my eyes and sighed, brushing the hair out of my face. It was time to go. I crossed over to my window and pulled the latch to unlock it, thinking about how much I missed the feeling of fresh air coming in. I pushed the window up as far as it could go and swung my legs over the sill, watching them dangle off the edge and over the wet lawn. I adjusted the backpack straps, making them extra tight. Then, with one big breath I jumped from my bedroom window, and onto the ground. I landed with a thump and felt pain shoot up through my ankles and up to my knees from the force of my landing. I could feel the water bottle in the bag dig into my back as I rolled over to spit on the ground. I took a deep breath and stare for one more moment at the lights of my house, where my dad is probably washing dishes as my mother sits at the table reading, both unaware of my absence. I hate to do this to them, but I have to. I push myself from the ground and brush off the grass from my pants. I take a few strides forwards to get the feeling back into my bruised ankles. And then I’m on my way.
Chapter 1
The October sun peeked through my white lace curtains and shone into my eyes, causing me to stir from my peaceful sleep and roll onto my side, facing my rustic wood wall. After contemplating whether or not to get up and join the people who rise earlier than eleven in the morning, I kick over my floral printed duvet and blankets and let my bare feet fall onto the soft carpeting of my loft bedroom in my family’s Chicago house. I changed out of my gym shorts and purple sweatshirt that I fell asleep in and opted for a pair of ripped jeans and a green T-shirt from a summer camp I attended years ago. I brushed my hair back into a french braid and left my bangs to fall into my face.I made my way down the stairs and into my adjoining living room and kitchen. I stepped onto the shockingly cold floor of my kitchen and trotted over to the sink, where I washed my hands and popped a bagel into the toaster. While waiting for it to finish, I propped my hands against the countertops and leaned forward, looking out onto the lush green grass, covered in frost that melted into water droplets, glistening as the sun shone onto them, making it look like thousands of bright little stars shining up from my lawn. The fog was lifting and revealed more sun that refused to hide itself and, instead, pushed its way through my entire house, brightening even the darkest of places. But my own thoughts, the darkest place of all was something that even the sun couldn’t reach and although it illuminated my entire home it still felt cold and gloomy. I was startled by the sudden pop of the toaster that snapped me out of my thoughts. I crossed over to the left and opened up my fridge, shivering as the cool air poured out onto my skin. I reached for the cream cheese and a knife and began to spread it evenly on both sides of my bagel. I took one half in my hand and brought the other on a plate as I made my way upstairs. On the way to my bedroom I passed my father who just excited the main bathroom. He gave me a kiss on the forehead, passing by me, and headed into his own room. Once I passed through the doorway I set my plate on my dresser and plopped down on my bed. I reached over to my nightstand and grabbed a hold of an open book, flipping to a random page and begun to read. I skimmed over a few pages and felt my eyes go heavy, my hand slumped to my side as I let go of my grip on the book and let my head fall onto the pillow, drifting to sleep.
I felt a splash of water burst into my face as the horn sounded and I dove, headfirst, into the water. I heard the swish sound of water around my ears as my arms slapped the surface and my body turned as I raced to the end. I looked ahead and saw the tiled wall in front of me. I curled my body, pushing my feet against it and took off with the speed it had provided. I swam and swam until the wall came into view again and pushed the last few feet until my hands gripped the pool edge and I came up for air. my hands stroked the cap on my head and I pulled the goggles up to my forehead. A smile spread across my face as the forming droplets dripped down into the pool. For one blissful moment everything felt peaceful.
I woke to the sound of dishes clanking in the kitchen, where presumably my dad was cooking dinner. I brushed the hair out of my face and rolled off the bed, towards my door. I downed a glass of water in the bathroom and walked to the entrance of my parents bedroom. My mom was folding laundry on her bed, the little amount of clothes that my family owned anyway, and looked up when she sensed me coming near the door.
“Did you have a nice sleep, sweetheart?” she asked me. I nodded as a yawn pulled at my jaw. She smiled back at me and turned to folding the sleeves of one her hospital shirts. My parents were both highly trained doctors and were very successful and well-known in all of Chicago. The expectations for my future were that I would follow in my parents footsteps, before the war, that is. But I had other interests in mind, like swimming for example. As much as I loved being my mother's personal student and assistant in training during my childhood, I craved a different career path, the only question was if the war would allow me to have it. I snapped out of my train of thought and looked back at my mother, who had moved onto folding a bunch of hand towels. She was about to pick the basket up in her arms and bring it downstairs to the washing machine when the phone rang on her nightstand. It was a rare occurrence to hear the ringing of our land line, especially since my family was one of the only ones that owned one. The sole reason of us having one was my parents position and value. With the amount of violence that had taken place recently, skilled doctors were not only rare, but vital for the Resistance. My mother drew her eyebrows together, quizzically, but picked up the phone. She raised it to her ear and spoke a soft hello into the speaker. I could hear a muffled reply on the other end, as my mother lowered a shaking hand and extended it to me. Her expression revealed utter shock, as I took the phone in my own hand and lifted it to my ear.
“Louisa, are you there?” My voice stuck in my throat as I failed to find words.
“Evelyn?” I gasped.
“Yes, it’s me” she giggled. My disbelief must have been obvious, because her giggle continued a while. It was an odd sensation to hear one of my closest friends voices, even through a phone, after months of no contact.
“I thought I’d never hear from you!” I admitted. I heard her sigh on the other end, I could’ve sworn that if I saw her right now, she would be shaking her head and looking down at her feet, like she always did when she felt guilty. She must do that a lot lately, there is no shortage of things to feel guilty about.
“I’m so sorry about that.” She mumbled, I could hear a crack of emotion in her voice. “And I’m so sorry that the reason why I called was actually because I need something from you.” She continued. I had to admit, what she said did offend me a little bit, that she called not to talk to her long time friend who she hadn’t spoken to in months, but as soon as the next sentence was spoken through the speaker of the phone that was pressed against my ear, all those feelings went away.
“It’s Mel” She told me. “She’s been taken to CMS” A lump formed in my throat as the words slipped her mouth. There was no way that that could be true, Country Manor School was the one thing that all our families feared, the place that we had risked our lives to escape.
“How is that possible?” I cried, disbelief in my voice.
“Remember when I told you about my parents undying affection for eachother?” She asked. I recalled that moment, she told me all about how her parents were so madly in love that they couldn’t stand to be less than an arm’s length of each other. Whether it was at the dinner table, or walking across the demolished streets of Chicago, they were always hand in hand.
“Yes, I remember” I tell her, still unsure of the relevance this had to Mel’s return to that wretched place.
“My parents actually decided to move away together, without me or Mel.” She explained. “I’m living at _______ house., that’s part of the reason why I couldn’t call you earlier” she admitted. My shock still clouded my judgement, I was sure that this was a prank, it had to be. But if this wasn’t a prank, if my best friend’s sister really had been sent away, how could parents just do that to their child? Even my best friend’s Maddie’s parents who had left to fight with the Resistance had a good reason to leave her, and at least they made an effort to see her. But to abandon their kids, that was something unimaginable for me.
“So what happens now?” I question her, I was done with the guessing games.
“That’s why I called.” She continued. “Louisa, I’m leaving to find her and get her back home.” I heard a pause on the other end as she swallowed, presumably debating whether or not to say the next line. “And I want you to come with me.”
I sat there for no less than ten minutes going over everything that happened in my head. My mother knew well enough to leave me alone in her room, with the curtains drawn to block out any light from coming in. I was interrupted by the sound of my dad yelling for dinner from downstairs for me to come down. I tried to choke down some broccoli and chicken, leaving most of my plate still full. I felt disgusted with myself for wasting perfectly good food, especially when so many people didn’t the access to it; but I felt too sick to my stomach to even think about finishing a meal. I excused myself with a headache and ran up the stairs to my room, shutting the door behind me. I sunk onto my mattress and placed head in my hands, holding back sobs. Not now, I told myself. Now is not the time to cry. I took a breath and leaped towards my closet, not taking a second to think about or regret my decision, in fear of backing out. I swung a backpack onto my bed and started stuffing necessities into it; water, flashlight, cell phone. I took more time than I needed, trying to convince myself of how insane of an idea this was. But I knew I couldn’t talk myself out of it, I had to do this. I rubbed my eyes and sighed, brushing the hair out of my face. It was time to go. I crossed over to my window and pulled the latch to unlock it, thinking about how much I missed the feeling of fresh air coming in. I pushed the window up as far as it could go and swung my legs over the sill, watching them dangle off the edge and over the wet lawn. I adjusted the backpack straps, making them extra tight. Then, with one big breath I jumped from my bedroom window, and onto the ground. I landed with a thump and felt pain shoot up through my ankles and up to my knees from the force of my landing. I could feel the water bottle in the bag dig into my back as I rolled over to spit on the ground. I took a deep breath and stare for one more moment at the lights of my house, where my dad is probably washing dishes as my mother sits at the table reading, both unaware of my absence. I hate to do this to them, but I have to. I push myself from the ground and brush off the grass from my pants. I take a few strides forwards to get the feeling back into my bruised ankles. And then I’m on my way.
Out of all the projects that we did this was most definitely my favourite. A few years back I read a book series called the Tomorrow Girls, which I absolutely loved and re-read multiple times. Although I was satisfied with the ending, I did want more and so I decided to take it on myself and continue the story the way I would have. Unsurprisingly, I never got around to finishing it. But two years later I wound up in a humanities class where we were assigned a personal project, and I thought it would be the perfect opportunity to please my younger self. Although I have only finished the first chapter, I hope to work on it more in the second semester.