• We decided to leave the city and head back home. Well James decided I didn’t have a vote in this arrangement. He always had to take control. That was the one thing I didn’t particularly like about him. Even when we were really little he would take control. When we were making mud pies together he would always tell me what it had to look like. When we played house in the cardboard boxes my dad took home from work for us he would take control of me and tell me what to do and I hated him for it. But just because you hate one tiny thing about someone doesn’t stop you from loving them. As I so rightly figured out 3 years ago when me and James started going out.
    I knew that he was right about us leaving the city. After all my mother would be worried sick, and my dad. It would be unfair to leave them hanging by a piece of thread by not letting them know where I was. Like James said ‘they have to know you’re safe’. Whilst he was saying that I thought to myself that if they really needed to know where I was they could phone me, after all my mother had already phoned me. Or I could phone them to tell them where I was.
    I went along with what he suggested anyway. There was no point in arguing with him. He would win no matter what. James booked tickets to get us out of here at 13:00, the first flight he could get. Well the first flight he could get to the airport closest to home. I had to pack up my clothes and all of my things and leave the hotel room. The receptionist gave me and James a funny look as we walked out of the hotel. She obviously thought that I was being carried away by some stranger. She didn’t see James before so that could be a very strong possibility.
    James had phoned for a cab to take us to the airport. I arrived just in time I guess but I was dreading what would happen to me when I got back. I mean what would my mother think.
    “Get in the back Sara,” James ordered.
    I did what he said and clambered into the back of the cab. James took my bag of things and put it in the boot. James didn’t get into the back with me like I thought he would. Instead he got into the front and sat beside the driver called, by what I could see on his identity card hanging from the mirror, Rick.
    Rick and James spoke quietly amongst themselves. I sat silently in the back staring out of the window and trying not to concentrate on what waited for me at home. I gave up on this and tried to make polite conversation. I even asked James what time we were expected to be back.
    “At about 4pm,” he answered,” Well that’s the time we’ll get to your house.”
    “Okay,” I muttered.
    The driver let us out at the airport and charged us $50 for the journey. I was so grateful that James was paying for everything. I couldn’t help but wonder where he got all of this money from.
    We went through the same routine of showing our passports and putting luggage on the luggage belt and then we eventually boarded the plane. Yet again the air hostess trundled along with her food trolley and offered me a drink. This time I accepted it. I hadn’t had a drink since the hour I arrived in New York and I was so thirsty.
    I tried to make conversation with James again but it didn’t work out as well as I had hoped. I stared out of the window again. Not that there was much to see because we were about 3,000 feet off the ground and all that was in the sky this high up were clouds. Boring, fluffy clouds. Boring, fluffy, white clouds. Not very interesting.
    We landed at the airport and I and James left the plane only to find out we weren’t in the same place as we should’ve been. He had taken me away, practically kidnapped me. He wouldn’t do that. He couldn’t do that. Well obviously he had. This is not like him. I want the old James back. The James who didn’t care about anything else but me.