• CHAPTER 5

    I walked in the door, and yelled “MOM?” and I heard the flop of bare feet heading my way.
    “Hey sweetie! How was your day?” she asked, then saw my expression and asked, “What’s wrong?” I motioned for her to sit down, and I started in.
    “You never told me that I was adopted, mom, and I understand that” I began.
    “How did you find out!?” she asked, startled. Then she looked at Ian, then back at me.
    “Yes Ian told me, and there is a lot more…” and I began in the story, with Ian filling in what I missed.
    As Ian and I talked, I listened to myself, I sounded the same, but I didn’t feel the same. I felt that I needed to grow up a heck of a lot in a month. Having the story told the second time; it really hit me this time. Chills ran up and down my back, as I realized that this was no joke. I was going to spend most of the rest of my life running.
    I couldn’t be “carefree Molly” anymore. I had to be responsible, and careful. As soon as I turned 18, I would become an adult.
    She sat back under the onslaught of information when we were done, and said, “You guys… can do stuff?” Ian opened his hand, and a flame irrupted hovering above his palm. I reached over, touched the flame, and it turned to ice. Ian caught it and gave it to Shelly. Who stared at it like it was foreign.
    “Ok” she said after a few minutes, “I guess we need to get you a pass port, and a lot of other things” she looked up at me.
    “Your gonna get me a pass port? What for?” I asked.
    “Well, you can’t run from the government of the USA in the USA!” she said, like I was very dumb. And then I realized, that she was willing to do anything to save me and protect me. I smiled wide and ran to her and hugged her tight. She embraced me back fiercely. “No school tomorrow, we are going to get you whatever you need, so that you are ready” she said, and I could here tears in her yes.
    Then she glanced at Ian, and asked “Do your parents know?” and he looked at her with an amused expression.
    “I haven’t seen my adoptive parent since he found out what I was” he said, with a hurt but amused look on his face, “But my older brother knows, my adopted one anyway, and he checks in on me every once and a while” he said.
    “What?” she said, shocked, as was I. “Well that’s unacceptable, u will stay with us until it is time that you too must leave. We have a guest room,” my mom said sternly.
    “That’s not really necessary Shelly,” he said quickly. Humph. I kind of wanted him to live with us. It would be kind of fun…
    “Yes it is” she said, “And I won’t take no for an answer”. YAY! I thought. I looked at Ian and saw him shake his head and nodded an “Ok” and then left to pack up his stuff.
    Now that I was alone in my room, I thought freely. What would this mean? Where would we go? Was I running with Ian, or alone? Was I leaving my mom home, or was she coming with us? What would we have to do to stay alive, away from those who hunted us? And the people who were like us, would I live long enough to meet them?
    The answers to most of these questions didn’t come easy. First, this all meant that I was on a list that I didn’t want to be on. We would probably leave the country, which would definitely be the safest route to survival. And the easiest. Yes, I would run with Ian, what other choice did I have? I didn’t know how to hide my traces; I didn’t know anything that would help us on this journey. Plus, I don’t think that I could be away from him now, I was too attached.
    My mom would stay here. It was safest, because no one knew that I was handed off to her. If she came along, then she would be in constant danger, just like we would soon be, and I couldn’t handle that. I still loved her as much as I did yesterday, nothing about that had changed. I loved her with all my heart because she was my mom. I would NOT have her be in the danger I was stepping into.
    I didn’t know the answer to the rest of my questions, and while I thought of answers, a new question popped into my head.
    If the government was after us, they had quite a few recourses, and had the will to get the ones they didn’t. What if some one at my school told them that I was here, some one who had something against me? If someone were to ask them if they had ever seen me, known me, would someone tell on me, so to speak? That was scary to think about, so I shoved the thought away.