Its dark. And I'm cold. But I need this break so bad. I snuck out of my house, again. I just needed a break. And now, I'm walking the dark almost deserted streets alone.
Alone.
What else is new?
I mean, sure I have friends at school. But they are all fake. I only have one real friend. But we hardly ever even hang out. We have one class together. And we eat with different people at lunch. We used to hang out after school. And I would spend almost every weekend escaping to her house. But shes moving, and been so busy packing I don't want to intrude.
And I'm even alone at home. I'm in an ongoing fight with my mother. Why she thinks its okay to hit me, I don't know. But she still does it. And she still laughs and smiles. I guess in someways I wish she did it because she was drunk or drugged up, but she does it completely sober. She picks me up from school, perfectly fine. She takes me to her house -my parents are divorced and I live with my dad- we are perfectly fine, talking about what we want for dinner. When all of a sudden shes irritable and decides to blame me. She screams my worthlessness and she smiles and laughs as I cry. To scared to defend myself any way but verbal.
My brother watches but does nothing. Never caring enough to defend me. I'm hated.
So I run away. Well, as away as I can get. I go home. My father is at work, as usual. So I arrive to an empty house. Alone. No one there to comfort me. My father eventually comes home. I ask him to promise I never have to go back. And for a month hes true to his word. But the hints come subtly at first. A holiday is arriving and he wants me to spend it with her. "but she's your mother" he says. I talk to my friend. And she encourages the same. But how do these people, who are supposed to support me and understand me, completely miss the haystack with the arrow? How could they say she is my mother when she tells me I am her biggest regret? When she hurts me. Laughing in my face.
I stay strong. I spend the holiday alone.
Always alone.
Feeling unimportant.
Feeling unwanted.
What else is new?
I recently made a new friend. He was awesome. Said he felt the need to protect me. So I took him up on it. I trusted him. I poured out my secrets. And he took them. Shaped them into a star and held them inside. Kept me safe. He was the one person who understood. But one day, he just stopped. He wouldn't talk to me. Wouldn't even look at me. I was torn in two. I felt abandoned at a time I needed him most.
Then, I got called up into the office during math class. The counselors told me a teacher had noticed cuts on my wrist and they had to check. I was so close to getting away, but they found the seven scars. They asked me questions I didn't want to answer. They called my father. They brought my troubles into my school life. Into my escape.
Now I feel as if the teachers look at me differently.
As if every student I pass by knows.
Its ruined.
I have no where to go.
I'm trapped by my escape.
So now I've left the house. I wont run away. I cant. Not after going through all this. I have to finish. I cant start all over. So I walk. I walk to god knows where. The streets no longer familiar. Who will find me? Who will notice my absence. I will return, as always, before the sun comes up. As if I was never gone.
I'm walking by an open garage. The sound of tools at work runs down the driveway. I close my eyes. Finding an escape in imagining each tool as it carries out its job. So lost in my own mind I loose where I'm walking. My feet tripping over themselves, I fall to the ground. My hands reaching out to catch me. They do no good and I fall. Reality in its full crashing down upon me.
The tears spring from my eyes and run my cheeks. The sobs rack my body, hurting my lungs. I take little notice, if any at all, to the scrapes on my shins and knees. Instead I cry because I'm alone. I sit here for a good few minutes. Wondering if anyone will find me, or if I will always be alone.
I hear footsteps making their way closer. I'm sure they will pass me by. They always do. I'm not important enough. Peoples lives are far to busy to spare a few minutes on me. A hand rests on my back. I make no indication of recognition. This is it. I think Its over. I will be raped and murdered. Finally out of my misery. I almost rejoice in the almost comfort of the hand on my back. I turn to see my savior. Hes young. Looks to be seventeen or eighteen.
"Are you okay?" He asks.
I look up at him through wet eyelashes. Sniffling, I say "Please."
His knees bend and he sits next to me. His arms circle around my frame he brings me into his shoulder. I sob harder into the crook of his neck. He makes soothing noises, waiting for my cries to calm. As my tears begin to slow, he pulls back, but only a little. He looks into my eyes. As if hes looking for something. He must have found it because he pulls me closer, picking me up and taking me to the open garage. He sets me on a counter and begins to go through the cabinets around me. Disappointment is etched on his face as he gives up. Looking to me he says "Stay here, okay?" I nod and he disappears into the house. I take this time to scan the garage. A Seedoo, upside down on blocks sits in the center. The tools I heard earlier spread around it. One looks as though it was dropped carelessly in a rush. Before I can process this further the door leading to the house opens once more and he returns to my side carrying a white plastic box. He sets it on the counter next to me and opens it, relieving a number of bandages and antibacterials. He brings out a small brown bottle of hydrogen peroxide and some cotton swabs, and setts to work on my legs, muttering sorry when I hiss at the sting.
When he is done, he packs up the white box. Pushing it to the back of the counter, he hops up on the counter next to me and takes my hand. I rest my head on his shoulder, my eyelids grow heavy and they slowly close as I fall asleep, peaceful for the first time in a while.
I wake up the next morning in a bed. But it is not my bed. I start to look around franticly before I notice the boy from last night next to me. Asleep. I take time to admire his beauty, before it hits me- why am I in his bed? Realizing I must have fallen asleep in his garage, I don't want to inconvenience him any further so I start to get up, noticing my sweater and shorts are no longer on. Before I can panic any further. Movement catches my eye. I turn to see him rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "We didn't...?" I ask. Not waiting for him to wake completely.
"No!" He says seeming to burst awake at my question. "You fell asleep in the garage and I don't know who you are, so I brought you here and your shorts and sweater looked uncomfortable so I... sorry." he explains sheepishly.
"No, no. its okay. Umm.. what time is it?"
He looks at the clock on his bedside table. "Eight thirty."
"Shit. Can I use your shower? And do you have a shirt I can borrow. I'm wearing yesterdays clothes."
He nods and points towards a door. Then gets up and goes to his dresser. I take the shirt he hands me, about to head to the restroom, but he shows me one finger, saying to wait. He goes out a second door, into the hallway. After a bit of fumbling, he comes back with a fluffy white towel and hands that to me as well. I get up and head to the restroom, but, before I am there, he stops me. "Boxers?" he asks.
I turn to look at him. "How do I wear boxers with shorts? Its okay, I was just planning on ditching the underwear all together." he doesn't say anything more, so I go to the restroom, shower, and get dressed. I put my hair up in a messy ponytail, not bothering to brush it. I come out of the bathroom and ask "Do you have a notebook and pen I could borrow? I gotta go to school. And I'll run back home during a free period for my binder."
"Umm sure. But aren't you late for school?" he answers, going to his desk.
"Shit. What time is it?" I look at the clock "Its only nine thirty. School starts at ten."
"What school starts at ten?"
"Early College High School. But only on Fridays."
"You go there? You must be smart."
"Pshh. Not even."
"But.."
"Nope." I cut him off. "By the way, I love this Bright Eyes shirt." I say, gesturing to the shirt I am wearing.
"Thanks." He says smiling slightly.
"So- you wanna go get some ice cream or what?"
"Its nine thirty! Its cold outside. And don't you have school?"
"I'm a ditch my first periods. Donuts?"
He looks at me for a moment, deciding. "Yeah, okay. Hold on." he goes to his nightstand picking up a land line and dials, he gestures for me to be silent at it rings. "Hey." he says, his voice sounding as though he's sick. "Yeah, I just woke up and my nose is clogged and my throught is sore. I don't think I can make it today. yeah? thanks J." he hangs up. Going to the closet he pulls off his shirt. I can't hold my gasp. Perfection. Not seeming to haver heard me, in fact, seeming to have forgotten me entirely, he takes off his shorts as well. Taking a shirt from a hanger and some jeans from his drawers, he puts them on and turns around. Seeing me, he blushes. I think he really did forget. "Now we're even" he mumbles so quite I almost miss it. He sits on one corner of the bed, and I sit on the other, and we both put on our shoes.
He stands up, holding his hand out to me. I take it and he leads me out of the house to his car. We get in and he drives towards the donut shop.
"Wait, turn right." I say at a stop light.
"Why? The donut shop is this way"
"That one sucks. Trust me."
He lets out a sigh and moves into the right turn lane. I direct him around town till we end up at a little hole in the wall bakery.
"Here?" He asks.
"Just because its a forgotten little place nobody pays attention to as they pass by doesn't mean its worthless."
His head whipped around to look into my eyes intently. Catching my double meaning. "Okay." He says taking my hand and leading me inside.
We order two dozen donuts and he goes to sit down, but I lead him outside. We walk to a nearby park and sit down in the grass. He never lets go of my hand. And for that I am grateful. Its like a silent message saying I'm here.
We chat and talk for a few hours before I fall asleep in the grass, curled into his side. Feeling safe.
Maybe this is a new beginning? Maybe he really is my savior.