She opened her eyes and looked around the dimly lit room. She read the time on the clock. Only noon. She had time. She reached under her kitanda and pulled out the suitcase. She got up and looked in her closet. Pushing the clothes aside, she grabbed all the weapons left on their posts. She placed them in the suitcase along with the other smaller knives and guns hidden in the room. S
he threw in a book of picha and her journal. She closed the suitcase, slipped her iPod in her pocket, and looked around the simple room she had called hers. There really wasn't much she had, a few books, few clothes, one pair of sneakers and a pair of sandals.
No posters, animals, anything that would have led on to her personality. A small mirror hanging from the back of the door made it look different from the however many empty rooms there were. She went back the closet and pulled out a small silver jewelry box.
It had been her mom's and the one thing that had survived that fire. It held the trinkets of her memories. Her first bullet, colored stones from her sister, glass from a broken window, things people wouldn't understand why she had them.
Except one person. As he came to mind, she fingered the crescent moon mkufu he'd aliyopewa her. She opened the box and looked at the small bag of sand. Her first kiss with him had been down kwa the beach. Now she added the mkufu to that pile of sand. If he couldn't figure it out, she'd be lost. But she had faith in him. He would understand.
Unless she read wrong, he'd think of her after she was gone. kwa then, he'll get it. She placed another trinket inside the box and closed it. She slipped out of her room and walked down the hall to his. She placed the box on his dawati and took one of his own weapons. He'll have to notice now. I just hope he gets it. Otherwise I may just be lost.