Read The Chaos for Free Online Page B

London, unblinking eyes watching the streets twenty-four hours a day. They’ll follow you, photograph you, read your chip, log you: who, where, when. I used to think it would be easy to disappear, just walk away and get lost in the crowd, but when you try it, you find out it’s almost impossible. Almost.
    I’m feeling confident when I walk out of school at the end of the day. I’ve got clothes, money. I told Mum and Dad I’d be going to camera club after school. They were pleased – a sign that I was joining in. I bought myself an extra hour.
    I go straight to the Learning Resource Centre and into the public toilet there. I lock myself in a cubicle, take off my school uniform and change into my own clothes. I was going to leave the uniform – I’ll never need it again – but at the last minute I stuff it back in my bag. I’ve got so few clothes with me, I can use them as extra layers. Two minutes later, I’m out on the street again. A bus is coming down the road. I run to the stop and get on, find a seat at the back and sit there,looking out of the window.
    I’m not too bothered where the bus is going, only that it’s taking me away and faster than I could walk. My heart’s beating hard in my chest, so I close my eyes for a minute and try to calm down. I’ve done it! I’ve got away! We’ve got away. We aren’t safe yet, but every minute, every second we’re moving further away – from home, from school, from Him, from Adam. 
    Adam.
    Sitting so close to him, drawing him, looking at him, really looking, I was more certain than ever that he was my nightmare boy. But close to, he isn’t frightening. He’s weird, yes, he’s twitchy and he can’t sit still, and he has this way of looking at you, as though he’s seeing right into you. But instead of freaking me out, I wanted to look back.
    In my nightmare, I’m terrified. He’s there with me, in the middle of the flames, and he takes my most precious thing, my baby, takes her out of my arms and walks with her into the fire. But Nightmare Adam is scarred, one side of his face is disfigured and hideous. The Adam at school has the most beautiful skin – smooth, warm, cappuccino skin. When I touched it, when I reached across and touched his face, it felt just the way it looked. Perfect. He has the perfect face, and for a crazy moment I imagine my face near to his, his eyes looking into my eyes, his lips brushing my lips …
    The bus jolts and I open my eyes. I’m looking directly at a scanner on the ceiling. Shit! Of course! They all have scanners. I’ve got to get off. Now. I ring the bell and go and stand by the door. Come on, come on. The next stop seems like miles. Finally, we grind to a halt and I’m out through the gap in the doors and walking as fast as I can. I’m trying not to run – people will notice that and remember. There arescanners every hundred metres or so along this road, and a big public information screen on the corner. They put up photos of missing people on those screens. I’ve seen them before. I never thought they could be people like me – people who didn’t want to be found. Will my face be up there tomorrow? As soon as I can, I duck down a side-street.
    As I’m walking, I’m thinking. How am I going to do this? If I go to a hotel or a B&B, they’re going to ask for ID. I need a false one, or I need to go where no-one asks for ID. I need to slip under the radar, disappear.
    It’s not the sort of thing you can do on your own, without contacts.
    I’m suddenly aware of my situation; a sixteen-year-old girl, from a gated community, pregnant, alone in a strange part of London carrying two thousand Euros in cash. What the hell was I thinking? How did I think I was going to manage?
    I glance at my watch. 16.40. In about ten minutes, my mum will start wondering where I am. I’ve got no time! At the end of the street, a train rattles past. I could go further on a train. If I could get on one without being seen, I could be