Monday 8.00 A.M.
I hear someone knocking on my door. I open my eyes and look at the empty ceiling.
'Who's there?', I ask.
'Mason. Please open the door. I want to talk to you.'
His voice sounds sweet and I can't resist to let him in. I open the door for him. His hair is still messy and his eyes are quite small.
'Hey, I'm really sorry about what happened last ni-'
'Don't be', he interrupts me,' let's say no more about it.'
I nod my head. We start talking about me moving in, my parents and how things will be from now on.
'Is there anything you need, that is still at home?', he asks.
'My phone, laptop, schoolstuff and my LA-poster.'
'Your LA-poster?'
'Yeah, I have trouble sleeping without it.'
'But then how did you just-'
'I didn't'
'You didn't sleep!? All night?'
I nod my head again.
'We should go get your poster!'
'How? My parents will never let me in again.'
'What they don't know, won't hurt them. Right?'
Mason looks at me. I can see he has an idea. A bad idea.
'No. We are not breaking into my own house!'
An evil smile appears on his face.
'No. No. No. No. No. No!'
No matter how hard I try, I can't get the idea out of his head. I really do want my poster. I guess there's no other way.
'Ugh.. fine.'
'YES!' Mason jumps up and runs downstairs.
'We're leaving tonight at 10 o'clock', he screams from the kitchen.
I get dressed and turn on the laptop again. Michael is online. I tell him everything. He laughs at me and gives me some advice. It concerns me a little that he knows so much about breaking into a house. I don't leave Mason's house all day and wait for it to turn 10 o'clock. I can feel I'm getting nervous. I imagine every possible scenario. What if we get caught? What if they call the police? What if Clara's dad is a police officer? What if Clara's dad is the judge who will decide what my punishment will be? What if-
'Anna! Time to discuss our plan!', Mason says while entering my room.
'What? Already? What time is it?'
'It's 9.30 P.M.'
'Wow... The day went by so fast. I'm scared, Mason. What if someone sees u-'
'Don't be! Everything will go just fine. Trust me.'
'Okay, what's the plan?'
'I'll ring the doorbell and keep your parents busy. You go to the backyard, take a ladder out of the garage and climb through your bedroom window. Take everything you need, as fast as you can. Okay?'
'Erm.. okay..'
I'm not sure about this. It doesn't sound like a very good plan. A lot could go wrong. Mason looks at me with his big brown eyes and I forget my doubts. I trust him.
'Let's go!', Mason says and he jumps up. He pulls me downstairs and we get in his car. On the way there, I start to shiver. I'm so nervous. Mason notices and puts his hand in mine.
'Trust me, we'll be okay. Everything is going to be just fine', he says calmly.
He stops the car 2 houses early and we get out. I quietly sneak by the windows into the backyard while Mason rings the doorbell. My dad opens and I can hear them start to talk. My dad's furious, but Mason stays very calm. I'm stressing out. I run into the garage and grab a ladder. It's massive and weighs a lot, so I'm struggling. I almost drop it a few times, but I manage to open it up, without making too much noise. I climb the ladder and push against my bedroom window. Of course. What were we thinking!? It's locked! I start to freak out. What do I do? What do I do?
Suddenly, the light in my room turns on. I step down a few steps, so my head isn't sticking out above the window. I can't here anything. I wait for what feels like forever. Then, it happens. The window opens up and my mom looks down at me. I freeze as I stare into her eyes. She hands me a brown, leather suitcase.
'I knew you were coming back for your poster. Take care, baby.'
I don't know what to say. I take the suitcase, put the ladder back in the garage and run to the car. When I pass the front door, I cough so Mason knows I'm ready.
'You got what you wanted?', he asks as we get into the car.
I nod. I'm still shaking a little.
'Now, you don't have to worry about them anymore', Mason says while grabbing my hand again.
'I'm tired', I say to break the mood. I don't want any awkward stuff to happen again.
'Me too. Let's go home.'
As we take off, I think about what my mom said. 'Take care, baby.' Baby. She hasn't called me that since she started drinking, 7 years ago. She knew I was coming back. She knew how much that poster meant to me. Maybe she did notice me, after all. Maybe I wasn't as invisible as I thought.