Okay, so I am FINALLY back. Sorry you had to wait. I had some terrible writer's block. I made the plans for this story in September. My plans and views over it have changed over the past nine, ten months. I just want to finish it, because I made you wait long enough and I want to write other stories. It's not that I don't enjoy writing this story, but it is the story that I put the most energy and work and time into, just because it is so complex and difficult to capture in words. Thank you.
When I was eleven, I tried to run away. I don't even remember why. It was probably something stupid. I didn't have any money, so I took some of my mom's jewelry. When I gave the necklace and bracelet to the bus driver, he just laughed and said, "Where to?"
I was the only one on the bus. It kind of scared me. No witnesses. He could kidnap me, I thought, over and over again. I wanted to go back home, but I wanted to leave, too. "Canada. Vancouver, I hear that's nice."
He laughed again and started to drive. It felt like hours had passed. I wasn't sure how far Canada was from Miami, but I was angry that it was taking so long. The bus stopped in front of my house. "Here we are."
He drove in a circle.
I groaned. "This isn't Canada. Is it?" He didn't answer. I sighed and got up, grabbing the bags that I brought with me. I went up to the driver and asked him for the necklace and bracelet back. "What? My wife would love these!"
"As if you had a wife." I muttered.
"Why'd you run away, kid? No, don't tell me. Whatever it is, it'll get better. Nothing is ever so bad that it can't be fixed with talking it out. One of the main reasons people have problems in life is because they never talk about their problems. Be the change you want in the world. Most of them don't have anyone to talk to about their problems. You don't need a therapist or a diagnosis or a doctor to tell you what's wrong with you. You can figure that out, with someone you trust and love. A lot of people wish the problem they were running from was that their parents yelled at them or something. Get in there and talk to your parents. Talk it out, talk to them. Tell them you love them. Talk to somebody. Take care of yourself, kid."
I know he didn't come up with the "Be the change you want in the world" part because I see that sign all the time around school.
At the moment, I was mad that he didn't give me the jewelry back. But when I walked through the door, I took what he said into consideration. He was right. I was surprised a human being could say something so right and so true.
I was prepared to be yelled at and grounded by my parents for running away. I walked into the house, scared for my life, but I had a smile on my face.
When I walked in, I realized that no one noticed I was gone.
I thought about it for weeks. Did they notice and let me off the hook? Did they even give a shit about their daughter? Was I important to them?
I didn't know. In fact, I never knew. It's one thing not to have people care about your existence at school, but at home, it was a living hell for me. My parents did things separately. Not only did they have two different views on the world, but also on how to raise me and how to spend money and a bunch of other stuff. I would have preferred choosing one parent over the other and visiting the other on weekends rather than being stuck in the middle of a web of arguments and fighting for most of my life. I would have preferred not being so stupid and naïve when it came to things. I would have preferred being someone that I wasn't if it meant just being normal.
I would have preferred a lot of things over what I got in life. The second I realized that wishes like that didn't come true, I wondered what kind of person I was going to be: the one who pretended like wishes came true or the one who told the others that they didn't. But I was neither.
I was the one who never picked a side.
Austin decided that I was "depressed", so we should write a song to cheer me up. I really, really didn't want to, but I reluctantly agreed and followed him to Sonic Boom. We sat down at the piano. Something about being next to him, so close, made me feel safe and for a second, I allowed myself to get lost into the music, I allowed myself to drift away.
I allowed every word to sink in as long as it wanted to. I allowed him to kiss me. I allowed so many things because I had been biting my tongue and holding back all these years. I was proud of myself. Because despite the fact that I am a wreck, I allowed him to love me, and myself to love him.
I remembered what the driver said. "I want to talk."
"About what?"
"Everything."
Kinda short, but the next one will be, too. After that, they should be longer. I hope to update tomorrow, but we shall see. Please review and tell me what you think.
By the way, for future reference (because you might want to know in the future), the song was "You Can Come To Me" Tiny things like that might clue you in on what's to come...
