Waiting was what was the hardest. I guess you could argue I had waited all my life for this, but this is more relevant to the last year or so. Specifically the last day. Morning crept by without as much as a word. Afternoon dragged by, not even a glance. I had dreams about this day, spent my time in class planning it out, and now that it was here…it seemed as though time was toying with me. Truth is, I could leave right now. I doubt anyone would look. But, there was that one fraction of a chance they'd pull something, and even though I'm only, an hour short of my final departure I wasn't going to risk my freedom in such a way. My stomach could be an acrobat the way it was flipping and my nerves were getting the better of me. I was apprehensive, restless, every word in the damn dictionary. I just want to leave, but in all fairness, I had nowhere to go. We lived a small way out of town, so I always had to hike to the bus stop when I attended school, on top of a hill overlooking a dreadful tumble. There wasn't much at the bottom. A thin trickling stream but it was mostly littered with all kinds of garbage. The yards were unkempt with all kinds of grass, weeds and who knows what else. The house itself was simple, two stories with a single concrete stoop. There was still a small swing set placed dangerously close to the edge, meant for me as a child, now worn and dirty with time. It's weird really, everyone always thought me mad, I swear whenever I told them where I lived they told me no house had ever been built on that cliff. I would have loved if they gave me some weird explanation, tell me a ghost story about how a girl and her family were murdered and burned alive and their ghosts haunted my house…but they never said any such thing. It would have given me some kind of reassurance, some explanation, some hint they were screwing with me, but there never was. My home apparently, simply did not exist to the others. That's part of the reason why I was so ready to leave. There wasn't anyone I was too unhappy about leaving behind. Eleven twenty. I tapped my collarbone mindlessly, wondering about my destination. Everything was always centered on escaping, but never where to. I certainly couldn't stay in the area if I wanted to break all ties. I can't remember the last time we visited my aunt, and my other uncle never cared for me. They never mentioned grandparents, so I suppose they must have died before I was born. I ran a hand through my mousy brown hair, tousling it. I lived closer to the attic and it was stifling hot up here. I guess I'll have to move, where to I had no idea. I had to get a job, that's for sure. Something small for now, waitressing maybe and I'll save up. But what after that? I had to find a career, and I had no clue what I wanted to do with my life. I had to go from prisoner to successful adult real quick. The world was my oyster and I'm allergic to seafood. I hastily got up from my bed, which creaked nosily, and shuffled through my closet. I hadn't much I wanted to take with me, so I pulled out a medium sized pack. I gathered all my clothes, folded them to the best of my capability and shoved them in the bag. My journals fit in the side pocket, as did the pack of cards. I had all my toiletries and picked up some of the books I'd gathered from the years. Ten more minutes. The hall was dark, and flooded with shadow. I wish I could drive, I knew very well how, but we owned one beat up van and I didn't need them to report it stolen. I slung the pack over my shoulder and snuck as quietly as I could downstairs. For a moment, I considered leaving a note but then dismissed it, they'd get the message. The door clicked shut and suddenly, I felt overwhelmed. A smile sprawled across my face as a summer wind blew. The trail down the hill was rocky and uneven, I nearly fell more times than I could count and by the end I had pebbles in my boots but as I bathed in the moonlight spilling from behind the transparent swirling clouds I knew it was worth it. A chorus of crickets congratulated me with songs of a summer's humid night. The usually orange glowing lights had dimmed to nearly nothing except the occasional flicker, leaving me in utter paranoia. I walked quicker, jumping violently when I heard a distant pop. And then he was there, blocking my path. But this was no predator, in fact he had the looks of a grandfather, or a great grandfather… His half moon spectacles hid crinkled and glistening blue eyes perched atop a crooked nose. He looked like he was wrapped in a blanket spotted with stars and had forgot to trim his snow white hair and beard. Maybe he's delusional, but his smile reassured me he meant no harm.
"Hello Miss Ianthe."