This is the product of elevn hours of blackout.
I hope you guys enjoy this!
Review please (:
(For those who are confused, the words in italics are the one she's writting on her journal. I hope that helps!)Dear Journal
She started writing. It has been two weeks since she was last seen in New York and she knew that even if the higher powers were demanding her team to stop looking for her, that they were still. Why wouldn't they? She was like their family, though most of the times she didn't feel like it. They all had their lives outside the office, now as she turned to her side seeing her daughter curled up in her bed after a long exhausted day of just having fun and spending time with her, she knew she had that life out as well.
Sarah's amazing. I don't know who she gets it from but she is. She's a great girl with a care free spirit. Not at all like me when I was her age. She loves her family, she's great in school and she just smilies at anything. She seems so innocent for a girl her age. I guess I have Katerina and Felix to thank for that, they really have done a good job in raising her. I know that it was the right choice. That I actually had made the right choice in leaving her to them to raise. I would've been a very bad mother. No doubt.
She ran her hands through Sarah's blond hair. She remembered what it was like – what she was like – when she was fourteen. She was a trouble maker having almost been kicked out of her school. She hated her family and avoided them at all cost – not that it was hard at all. Her family only consisted of her mother who was an workaholic just as much as her step father was an alcoholic. Her sister was always out with her friends or whomever she pleased. To make up for it, Samantha was always out of the city – out of 'Stupid Kenosha' and into some other city making new friends and pretending to be someone she wasn't to get into parties and hook up with guys. She was the stereotypical rebel as her mother called it. She just considered it being an individual.
Sarah told me about her boyfriend. When she had first told me about it, the thought that she was too young came into mind. But seeing as though she was telling me instead of hiding it. Seeing as though Katerina and Felix were okay with it (I do trust their judgment a lot), I thought I should meet the boy who has my fourteen year old daughter 'in love'. Or as in love as they could be at that age. From what I saw in the pictures, he didn't look like one of those bad boys type. I think of that as a good thing, bad boys were just that. Bad. Boys.
But I guess I won't know till I actually meet the kid.
His brown hair and blue eyes.
Just like him.
Though, not all good boys turn out to be good too. They could still break a heart – worse than any 'bad boy' could. I should know, should I?
Samantha sighed. Martin. He was different from everyone and anyone she has ever dated. Most men were only there to get a good screw from a hot FBI agent. Or even just a one night only, thing. They never were there to stay and talk, or cuddle even like Martin. They never offered her a shoulder to cry on. Not many – most of them didn't – offer anything but their bodies. So, she didn't offer anything back but hers. They didn't hurt her at all though, she knew when she was going into whatever 'relationship' it was that there weren't going to be any heart aches or late night whispers. There were just going to be sex, and a lot of it.
Though she knew that she should have known better to think that Martin was just like any other man she had been with. She couldn't change what she was use to. Couldn't change until she realized that he was gone and that she had changed unconsciously. She wanted him in the worst way possible.
I keep asking myself if they're still looking for me. If they're as good of agents as they are of people, I thought that they would've found where I'm at right now.
I didn't try too hard to cover my tracks. An amateur would've done a better job. But, maybe they're too busy with other cases? Or they just don't care?
'Stop making yourself think like that, Samantha,' she told herself looking down at the blank spots of the page then over to her pen.
I want to call them. Danny, Viv, or even Jack. Tell them that I'm alright. Tell them that I'll be back in about two more weeks because I just needed a break. I know that it would've been wiser to just ask for time off rather than waste the people's money in their search for me. I just couldn't take it anymore. The fight or flight instinct came to me. And I couldn't chose to fight.
He told me that "It shouldn't have to be a fight."
So it shouldn't be one.
She picked up the phone that was on the side table dialing a New York number. After three rings though, she punked out and just placed the phone back down on the receiver.
Nobody answered. At least I tired.
She sighed once again staring at the phone willing for it to ring. But the other part of her really didn't. Talking to them back in New York would mean something. She needed to figure out whatever fear it was that she had about those people back 'home' just like she figured out what it was that she was fearing in the place she was now. Though, in the back of he mind, she knew. One word, two syllables.
Martin.
