The clouds are gathering in over New York, I feel the wind getting stronger. I know it is only a matter of minutes before the storm is over me. I tighten my cloak around me. As I wonder down the streets of New York I feel a discomfort that someone or something is following me close behind. I tell myself not to panic. This has happened before, just play cool. Find a place to hide. Along the street to the left I see a Zara store, I glance a last look behind me, then slink in with the crowd.

I try to appear as calm as possible as I scan the clothing store for a room I might be able to hide in. My eyes lock on a door in the far end of the store. I walk through the different ails pretending as if I’m looking at clothing. When I reach the door I turn my back against the it, and feel for the knob. I feel stupid as I try to feel around with my hand behind my back looking for the door knob. Click the door opens. I make a fast gesture and close it shut. The room is big, like a big storage. There are all kind of different cloths items. All from shirts to shoes as well as different accessories, I notice a very interesting necklace. The necklace has a smooth chain and a locket at the bottom. The locket is closed. Of course I think, why would there be an open locket with a key hole. I try to find a key that would fit to the locket. I just can’t find one. I feel very drawn to the necklace in my hand. I pick out a $20 note out of my pocket and place it where the necklace had been. I had to examine it closely before I was ready to let it go. There was something about the way it weighted in my hands, the way I felt the chain cling to my skin. It is as if it is trying to tell me something.
I shove it down my pocket as I sit down and lean my head against the wall. I let my copper hair fall heavy over my shoulders and attempted to re braid it. I let myself recall the last time I ever saw my mom.

It had been only two days ago. I was sitting in my room like every other Saturday talking to my friends on Facebook. My mom had said she was going to the post office and that she was going to stop by the grocery shop on the way back. She had left at around noon. At 3:15 p.m. I started to wonder where she could have gone. I had looked around in out apartment for any sign of her coming back without me hearing her coming in. I had looked for groceries or her hand bag, but nothing. I had tried calling her cell phone, no answer. At 4:15 I had started to panic. Once I had decided to call the police, as I was dialing 911, my mom had called me. I still remember the panic in her voice. I also remember the pain, fear and confusion I felt when she told me that she wouldn’t be coming back. I hadn’t understood what she meant with hide at the time, but I do now. Of course it wasn’t a coincidence that we moved all the time. As far as I can remember I changed houses, moved schools and even countries and states every year. When I was little I hadn’t minded much, I thought it was exciting and my mom always made me think on the bright side. Though saying goodbyes and new hellos every year, that was hard. But my mom used to tell me that I should think of every move as an adventure.

I knew something was hunting us, or now, me. And all this time my mom had tried to protect me from the one thing that killed her. And the worst part is I don’t know why, how or who did it. All I know is that she told me one thing, one thing I wasn’t allowed to forget.

“Don’t trust anyone. Trusting too much will get you killed. A guy will find you; he is blond with green eyes. You must go with him, you can trust him. He will explain things I never had the chance to. Keep your guards up, when you’re in need of it most, true colors will be reviled. Stay safe, hide until he finds you. He will find you. ”

I’m back in the big storage room in Zara. I take a deep breath and straighten up a bit. I struggle every day to understand her last words. I hear them over and over, but I simply can’t make any sense of them. I have no idea what it means, it’s like a riddle, impossible to solve and confusing. All I know is that I have to keep running and hiding like she used to do with me. If I ever stop, something terrible is going to happen.

It’s a bit odd for people seeing a 17 year old girl travel around all alone. But then, I don’t really mind what people think of me. At this point I just need to follow her advice, run and hide, until I’m found by this mystery guy.