The future starts today, not to tomorrow....(TRANSLATE)

Chapter 3

*Alison P.O.V.*

On my hands had long formed the traces of the nails, but despite the slight pain which I felt at the same time, I still had them clenched into fists. Embittered, angry and confused... just so I felt at that moment. I had no idea what I would do to scramble out of the trip to Ireland. I didin't like left here eveyrthing-school, friends.... and after all: my parents.

In Ireland, almost I didin't know anyone, except, of course, my other family. In the summer Niall still pulled me somewhere, and as he was gone- replaced him Greg. I versed, where everything is more or less, but still all- I didin't want to go there. And what's worse- live in there.

From my throat came out involuntary groan. I squeezed my eyes together, not allowing another tears flow. Quickly I picked up the vertical and brushed hands to returned it the blood circulation. I breathed a few time and fast, but decisive step came out of the bathroom.

I pulled out a suitcase under the bed and started to throw things, even don't stacking  tchem. I didin't care  that by the time I open it again, everything will wrinkle. I didin't care anything. 

After several hours near the door landed all my stuff. I looked at the room that now seemed to me cold and austere. It is here that I spent almost all my life. I shook my head, sitting on the bed.

From inside the house came to me screams of the boys, their joyful laughter, until the sound of the TV. Or they find remotes, or parents told Niall, where they seek. And if we are already at my brother... you can see just how bothered by what I said. Even he didin't want to budge ass to explain all this. Dear, caring brother.

After a few minutes of sitting idle in the room, I decided that I had to do something. I won't be the last day in London, spend alone in the room.

Do I come to terma with the fact that I'm leaving? No. I preffered to pack myself, than would they then do the boys.  And so has his way with this trip, no matter how resisted. The strenght put me on the plane, and then took to the house.

I grabbed the keys to my car and went to the balcony. Slowly I walked down the tree to the ground, then headed to the garage. I opened it and my eyes appeared black Mitsubishi Lance EVO VII. I got it from parents for my birthday. He stretched to 280 kilometers. I love it.

I turned off the alarm and got in behind the wheel. Immediately on my face broke into a smile. That feeling when you sit behind the wheel of such a gem, and you can do with it what you want, priceless.

Qucikly I fired the car and not paying attention to the fact that I can make a huge noise, shoved the gas pedal gently. The vehicle howled with joy, and I smiled even wider. I left the garage, deftly dodging guys cars and a moment later already raced highway, where much violated the speed limit.

Probably, you ask now whether I'm racing? No. Once, yes, but now it's not for me. I saw how others do it, I know when and where races are held, but still... I don't spinning. It is easy to get started, a lot harder to stop. You never don't really done with racing. First, if someone will need you, find you and force to take off, even if you lived in Alaska. Secondly... the adrenaline. You get used to it and you can't live without it. You have to get behind the wheel and race... or else you will finisz up.