{1}
"Don't drop my phone." My mum warned me, narrowing her eyes at me. "I'm trusting you."
I took the new phone from her hands, sighing and reassuring her that I'll be careful with it. I accidently broke her phone ten years ago, and she still brings it up to this day. Yes, a whole decade ago...
She left the living room, muttering about how she needed to do grocery shopping. I sat on the L-shaped sofa, and started to put my new number into the dial pad. I smiled in satisfaction as I saved it as 'Lia' with a red heart emoji by it.
"Amelia!" My mum yelled from upstairs. My heart skipped a beat in horror, when I heard her call my entire name.
"Yeah?" I shouted back unsurely.
No response.
"Yes, mum?" I tried again, a little louder.
No response.
"Ugh." I murmured quietly, realising I had to actually go upstairs to her.
"Don't give me that attitude, Amelia!" She suddenly barked, making me jump. I gaped at a wall in disbelief, how had she heard me from upstairs? I sighed and proceeded to stand up, glancing at the time on her phone.
I was about to lock her phone, when I saw something that caught my eye. I frowned as I took in the contact name that currently took up the screen, had I pressed on the profile by accident? My heart started to race, wondering if this was real.
The contact name saved was 'Kian - Emergency Number', making me eyes go wide. That was my father's name, my dear father who was currently missing in action (MIA). I exited the profile, looking for any other contact that might be his instead, why had she saved it as emergency number?
My father was on the front lines of action in the military, a risky job that he loved. I didn't know too much about his post, since he was reluctant to talk about his job. I figured it was because he thought it would worry me, so I didn't press on the subject.
We had communicated via burner phones, extremely cheap phones that were easily disposable. I had only questioned that form of communication once, to which my mum replied with, "Your father has a lot of enemies who want to get a hold of his location, he is a senior staff in the British Army after all."
He always called using different numbers, so we never had an actual number designated to him. Mum would send a new number to his department, and they usually gave him the number to call us. He called quite frequently, every fortnight, as we would await his call.
His last call was three years ago.
When we learned he was MIA, mum surprisingly took the news just fine. I, however, didn't take it as well. My heart ached at the uncertainty of it all, was he alive or was he dead? After a year, I stopped kidding myself and accepted that he might be dead after all.
However, my mum's reaction to all this had always made me second guess whether that was true. Maybe she was in denial, but something told me otherwise.
I clicked back onto the contact profile and stared at the name, could this really be him? I glanced at the actual number, and frowned in disbelief. The number was different, definitely nothing like the normal numbers I've seen.
Kian - Emergency Number
249#888#0981
I scoffed at the thought that this 'phone number' would actually work and dial, I got my hopes up for nothing. I sighed, my gaze not leaving the screen, as curiosity churned within me. I stared at the name once more before muttering, "Fuck it."
I brought my phone out my pocket, and unlocked the phone; I was going to call it. I put the number into my dial pad, and took a deep breath. My thumb almost clicked the green button, before I remembered something.
Let's private my phone number, just in case.
Once I did, I redialled the number and pressed the call button. I slowly brought my phone up to my ear, and listened. My heart pounded against my chest as I heard silence for a couple of seconds, before hearing the familiar ringing sound.
I took a surprised, sharp intake of breath. It worked?
It only rang twice before it was picked up. I waited for the receiving end to say something, maybe a 'Hello?'.
But there was just silence.
I frowned again, glancing at my phone to see I was still on the line. I brought it back to my ear, and listened for a voice. When it seemed like the person wouldn't speak, I rolled my eyes and said, "Hello."
More silence.
All right then...
"Hi, I'm calling to speak to someone. It is quite important, and this is the only number I have to call him." I tried again, trying to sound professional.
"May I help you?" A male suddenly spoke. I opened my mouth to reply, before I realised I had already told him why I called.
"I would like to speak to a man named Kian, if possible." I asked, nervously playing with my hair.
"Please hold on a second." The man told me after a brief pause. Following his order, I patiently waited on the line before he got back to me.
"How have you obtained this number, ma'am?" The man questioned, annoyance lacing his voice. "Do you know who you're calling?"
I brought my phone away from my face, and stared at it in horror. For some reason, it felt like I was getting in trouble. Despite that feeling, I continued to stay on the line. This number was the only link I had to my father, I wasn't going to give up that easily.
"Is this a department in The British Army?" I asked, kicking an empty bottle of water in embarrassment. I sounded so ridiculous, but I had to ask.
"No, ma'am." He responded with monotone. "This is an insurance company."
Disappointment filled me, as reality hit me. "Oh."
"Have a good day." He said curtly, before hanging up.
I let out a heavy sigh, before locking my phone and slipping it into my pocket. What kind of insurance company purposely stays silent once they pick up? A bitter smile made its way on to my face, as I made my way upstairs.
I found my mum getting ready to hop into the shower. I slid her phone onto her dresser and leaned against it. She was tying her long jet-black hair into a bun, a trait that I inherited from her. She was naturally tan because of her Italian descent, another trait she had passed onto me.
She smiled at me once she noticed me with her mismatched eyes. She had heterochromia, her iris' were different in colour; one was brown and the other was blue. I inherited dark blue eyes, just like my dad.
"You called me earlier?" I reminded her.
She furrowed her brows in thought, trying to remember why she called me. "I forgot, sweetie."
I shook my head at with a laugh, before leaving the room. "I'm off to uni!"
"Make sure to eat lunch, it's almost mid-day!" She called out, poking her head out the room. "I'll call you to make sure!"
Already at the bottom of the stairs, I called back, "I'll remember, don't worry!"
I quickly put on my small backpack, and sneakers before rushing out the door. One thing I hated about travelling to uni was the underground trains, but it shouldn't be too packed since it wasn't rush hour.
I strolled to the train station, beeping my oyster as I hurried to my platform. I saw my train on the platform with the doors open, making me jog to get in on time. I managed to get in before the doors closed, already finding a seat to sit on.
I put my earphones in and listened to music, drowning out all background noise. The routine was always the same when I travelled, nothing out of the ordinary ever happened. Despite having one of my senses be taken over by music, the rest of them were working hard as usual.
I am incredibly observant, it's one of my many talents.
There were currently only ten people on the same carriage as me, six females and four males. There was one middle-aged couple, a father and son, three young adults, two men in suits and one old lady.
The three young adults looked to around my age, twenty one, and on their way to their university too. They all wore lanyards around their neck, indicating which one they attended. I didn't have to look too close to know which ones they went to, I could tell by the colours.
Out of the three, two of them were girls. The brunette girl kept sneaking looks at the guy sitting opposite them. I could tell by the his side profile that he was a really handsome guy, no wonder she was eye raping him. The blond girl, however, was busy checking out the brunette girl; clearly not interested in men.
One man in a suit kept shifting in his seat, making me glance at him. It only took one glance for me to see the bags under his eyes, his uneven shaven beard and his hyper dilated pupils - no doubt due to drugs. It was clear to me that he had serious problems to deal with, whether it was a problem from his home or at work.
To anybody else, this guy may seem like he's got his life together. There wasn't even a crease on his suit, his black shoes were shining to the heavens, and he had a damn briefcase. If he doesn't reek of 'don't look past the suit, I'm broken inside', I don't know what does.
My brain automatically gathers more information about the rest, before it was finally time for me to get off at my destination. I didn't look back at them, knowing fully well that I'll probably remember their faces for the rest of my life.
I forgot to mention, I have photographic memory.
My legs took me down the familiar path to the campus, before entering a building and arriving to my lecture on time. I sat right at the back, where it was less likely to get asked questions. I sat through the two hour lecture, with no book, pen, or laptop since I'll remember it anyway.
Once it was over, I yawned and stretched in my seat, feeling stiff from sitting too long. I had one hour, a lunch break, to kill before my next lecture. I brought my phone out to check my messages, but found myself clicking onto my call history. Without thinking, I clicked on the last outgoing call. I didn't hesitate in pressing the green button, and putting it to my ear.
I had to try, just one more time...
"The number you have dialled, does not exist. Please check the number, and try again." Said the automated female voice, making me frown at my phone.
It had only been an hour since I last called them.
"Hey, Lia." A voice called out.
I looked up to see a friend I somehow manged to make, after coming here for two years and a half. I wanted to have uni friends, but it just didn't work out; and that was fine with me. My closest, best friends were the ones I made at sixth form, so I didn't really need new friends.
"Hey, Layla." I greeted her with a smile. She was a really sweet person, who seemed pretty well off compared to everyone else. She didn't wear obvious designer brands, nor did she mention about how wealthy she was, but it was still pretty obvious.
To me.
"You wanna grab a bite to eat?" She said, leaning on the table beside me.
"Yeah, let's go." I told her, feeling my stomach growl at the thought of food. "Where to?"
"I'm going to get myself a meal deal from Tesco, like usual." She chuckled as we left campus. "What's new?"
I laughed at her words and said, "You know what? I'll get one too."
We turned into the Tesco, grimacing at how packed it was. The meal deal section was right at the back, a design flaw if you asked me, literally everyone bought them. We dodged elbows and squeezed through everyone just to get there, before I accidently caused someone to drop their phone.
But I noticed that he clearly saw me, and didn't bother to move.
I gasped loudly, when I saw the phone tumble to it's death. "Oh, I'm so sorry." I apologised, immediately picking it up. I turned it over to see the screen, and breathed out in relief when it wasn't cracked.
I gave it back to him. "Good thing you have a screen protector on it." I retorted with a smile.
The suited man looked to be in his early thirties, and sported a thin moustache. "How do you know there's a screen protector on it?" He asked with a frown, curiously inspecting his phone. "I know there is one, but even I can't tell."
I smiled uncomfortably under his intense stare. "I just guessed, since it didn't break." I lied through my teeth. "If, you'd excuse me, my friend is waiting."
Thankfully, Layla had made it to the meal deal section, waiting for me. We bought our food, hurried back to campus and ate in a cute corner of a hallway. There was a large table, and comfy seats to chill on.
We spoke about a lot of different things, but my mind kept replaying the encounter I had with that guy with the moustache. There was something so off about him, and I couldn't help but wonder why. I had a deep worrying feeling in the pit of my stomach, my instinct was never wrong.
"Oh, I just remembered." She said suddenly. "Here's the cap you leant to me that day. Thank you."
I took it from her, and stuffed it into my bag. "No problem."
We cleaned up after our mess, and headed to another building; where the next lecture was being held. Layla was happily talking about what she was up to on Halloween, when I felt someone's stare on us. It could've been anyone watching us walk across campus, but I still looked anyway.
I frowned when I realised we were the only ones around. I glanced towards the gates to find three men in black, including the moustached man, watching us. I looked away immediately, my heart racing at an insane rate.
Why was he here?
We entered the building, and sat down for the lecture. I sat through, yet another, two hour lecture; but this time I couldn't bring myself to pay attention. My mind kept wondering back to those three men.
What was the likelihood of the moustached man, arriving at my campus after running into him?
Not very high.
The lecture was over before I knew it, so I reluctantly got ready to leave. Layla and I usually leave together to walk to the train station, and then separate since we took different trains. We walked out of the lecture hall with everyone else.
"Let's leave through the sports entrance." I suggested, nodding towards the other side.
She raised an eyebrow at me. "Why?"
"I want to take pictures of those autumn leaves." I told her, thinking of a reason on the spot.
Her expression brightened immediately. "Oh, they must look so pretty! The last time I walked through them, it was in spring. It was completely filled with white flowers, and-"
I zoned her out then, taking mental note of everyone who walked by us. I hope I was just being paranoid, and that there wasn't actually someone after us.
Or me?
Could this be related to the phone call I made earlier? The probability of this occurring was uncertain, there are too many factors I needed to take into account. I glanced at Layla, despite being my friend, I didn't know her all too well.
Our friendship never surpassed the 'uni friend' stage.
Could they be after her?
We walked through the famous 'Path of Dreams', where we stopped to take pictures of the autumn leaves. Once we took plenty, we exited the campus and hurried to the station. To my relief, there seemed to be no one following us.
We separated in the station, going our own way and hopping onto the train. I sat down, immediately plugging my earphones into my phone and playing music. I breathed out, wondering if I had been too paranoid.
I mentally shrugged, better safe then sorry.
The train stopped at the next station, letting people off and letting some get in. I suddenly got goose bumps, indicating that something was not right. I felt three pairs of eyes on me, making my blood run cold.
Shit.
I pretended not to notice the three men in black, each spread out in the carriage. I looked down at my phone, reading old messages, not daring to look up. I glanced at their shoes, remembering how the moustached man's one looked.
I spotted the pattern on his smart shoes, he was the furthest one away, reading a newspaper. He was obviously in that position since I had already seen his face.
I was ninety percent sure that they were following me, but had the urge to do one last thing. The train slowed down and stopped at the next station. Once the doors opened, I bolted out the carriage and stood on the platform.
To my amusement, I heard all three get out after me. I pretended to look around, glancing at the tube map in confusion every now and then. I glanced at them, smirking when I noticed how rattled they looked by my sudden departure.
I was sure that the train's doors stay open for approximately fifteen seconds at this station. I counted until fourteen, before I dashed to make it inside. I barely made it, feeling the wind of the doors close shut behind me.
The train began to move, as I leaned against a pole for stability. Looking around the carriage, I was glad to see they hadn't made it in. I spent the rest of the train journey, praying I got home safe.
There was three stations left until my destination, when I felt a pair of eyes on me.
I closed my eyes, please let it not be one of those men...
Once I opened them, I glanced at the people in the carriage who seemed to be minding their own business. I quickly made the assumption that the person watching me, wasn't from this carriage.
I turned around, looking through the glass window that separated each carriage...
...and met the dark gaze of the moustached man.
I immediately broke eye contact, my mind racing on what to do next. I glanced around the bored looking passengers, should I tell someone? I couldn't call the police, since there was no service underground. I looked down at my outfit, my denim jacket made it so easy to spot and track me. I had to lose it, but not in here.
The next station was a very busy one, unlike the one I usually get off at. It looked like I'd have to get off that one, although it was much further from my home. However, I was left with very little choice.
After much deliberating, I decided against telling anyone. I was confident I could shake one man off my tail.
There wasn't much time before the next station, so I took off my backpack and opened it for preparation. Thank goodness Layla had returned my hat today, it was going to come in handy.
The train began to slow down, making sure I made no obvious effort to move. I bolted out as soon as the doors opened, and immersed myself in the crowd. I took a quick glance behind me to find him following me.
I let out a frustrated sigh, and desperately looked around to see who I could hide in front of. My eyes landed on a very tall, muscular man, already making my way over to him. I walked in front of him, as I let down my long, black hair from it's bun. Not wasting time, I took out the cap from my bag, and put it on.
I shrugged my denim jacket off, and stuffed it into the bag. Deciding against wearing my backpack, I held it in front of me to avoid him seeing it. I looked down at my outfit, too bad I couldn't do much about my high-waist black jeans and sneakers.
I didn't look back when I made it out the station. I walked with little a bit of a limp, hoping that it would throw my follower off. I knew the easy way home, but purposefully took weird turns and went around in circles before reaching my neighbourhood.
It was safe to say, I had shaken him off my tail.
I sighed in relief, feeling so exhausted. I'll have to report this to the police, this was way too intense. I strolled to my house, stopping in my tracks when I saw something unusual.
Three large black cars parked outside my home.
"Mum?" I whispered, before sprinting to my house. I paused to take a glance inside the vehicles, but couldn't see anything due to the blackout windows.
I fumbled for my keys, and opened the door. "Mum?" I yelled, my heart pounding against my chest.
"In the living room." She calmly called out.
I hurried into the room, freezing when I saw three men in black...and a really hot guy.
It definitely wasn't the same men from earlier, but that didn't stop me from glaring at them. They nodded at me in acknowledgement when I walked in. The good looking guy raised an eyebrow in amusement when he took in my hostile expression.
I grabbed my mum, and pulled her behind me; standing in a protective stance. I immediately dialled 999, extremely vexed that they have dared to come into my house.
What I didn't expect was my mum taking my phone from me and say, "No need to do that, sweetie."
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I hope you enjoyed the first chapter!! ><
To any new readers of my work, please don't be overwhelmed by my long chapters! I prefer writing long, detailed chapters to satisfy my readers until the next update <3
I hope you guys stay around for the hell of a story that's coming up x
Please VOTE and COMMENT <3
Love Yasmine x
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Extra notes:
Tesco - a popular grocery chain store/supermarket, there are a mini versions of the store on almost every busy street. The small versions usually have healthy and non healthy ready to go meals, big selection of snacks, candy, and drinks. They always seem to be one around schools and universities, for students to grab cheapish food.
Sixth Form/College - the final two years at school for students between the ages of 16 - 18. If you're American, think of it as the 11th and 12th grade separated from High School and called a 'Sixth Form' or 'College'. After Sixth form/college, many students move onto University.
Taking the underground trains is a normal mode of transport for university students who don't live in accommodation/on campus. This applies to London, mostly.
An Oyster is a travel card that allows you to use buses, trains and trams - so basically public transport. It's usually free for under 18 year olds, and elderly/retired folk. But it's pretty expensive for all the people in between, I have a student discount to travel...but the money is still a little too steep ughh, I just want to get from place A to place B lool