I pull on my shirt and get off from the bed, walking over to where my sneakers lay by the bedroom door.
Aaron lounges behind me, his shoulders resting on the headboard slightly propping his body up."Leaving me so soon?" He chortles. "Ah, always the one to runaway."
His words hit me like a boulder and almost makes me topple over. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to shun the thoughts away from my central thoughts. Instead, I stand back up tall, and look back at him over my shoulder as I answer. "Don't worry, I'll be back. I just have to go out first."
He smirks, a reply on his tongue, but keeps his mouth shut once I narrow my eyes.
As I sneak out the door, grabbing his hoodie from the floor before I do so, he calls out at me, "don't hurry back." I roll my eyes. I was blessed, in a cruel sense, to have convinced him to have me chill here for the time being. Luckily Aaron's parents are away, conveniently, for the next week. Of course I had to pay up, but if it at least lessened one burden from the giant rock on my shoulder, I'll just have to deal with it.
The night is even colder than the night in Boston when I left, even the one when I snuck out to call Kat. I dig my hands into the pockets of the sweatshirt, shrinking as much as I could into the collar of it. The hoodie reaked of Aaron; chlorine, the hint of sweat, and whatever the fuck type of cologne he wore. I resented the idea of having to do this; on the list of people I did not want to have contact with, Aaron was one of them. It wouldn't be so bad if he wasn't such a douche canoe. Whether I got out with Kat or not, whatever happens I'm out of this town. For once, Aaron would never let me live this down.
Shaking him from my thoughts, I focused on maneuvering through the streets. Aaron would be dealt with later, right now I had to figure out where Kat was. I prayed she was at her fathers; it wasn't so far from my previous home and where Aaron lived. Plus it was closer than her moms, who lived on the other side of town for the time being. It's also the place where I use to sneak her out of also, making this task much simpler.
I stay low, pulling the hoodie over my head. A group of guys stand at the corner of the adjacent street, most likely a drug deal. I hurry along, ignoring their sudden interest in me, but its too late for them as I turn down the opposing street and disappear in the shadows.
In no need for a chase, I take off running, putting as much distance between me and them as possible. My legs start to protest and I slow, gathering my surroundings and trying to pinpoint where the fuck I was at.
A sigh comes out with exhaled breath as I try to refill my lungs and I cross the street.
The lights are on in the cliché suburban house, well some of them. The two windows overlooking the street have lights illuminating from behind the curtains. If I remember correctly, the left are her parents' room, and the other an office. I did not care to try to concoct a story as who was in which room doing who the fuck knows. My eyes scanned the side of the house, towards the back of the house where a window sat beyond the fence. The light was off, the window blending into the dark.
I took a deep breath and dashed across the street, crouching behind the fence lining the yard. Waiting, I shot up when no sounds erupted from the area, and twisted the post at the entrance way of the fence. To my advantage, her dad had not painted over the side of the broken post the bore pink, nor fixed the damn thing. I exhaled in relief and caught it when the curtains lit up in the front window. Sinking back down, I waited a moment or two before peeking through the fence posts to see only a distant silhouette somewhere in the room. Closing my eyes, I counted to ten, my fingers finding the piece of paper folded in the front of my jeans, and standing back up, slipping the papers on the post and fell back down.
I stayed put for about five more minutes before rolling onto the balls of my feet and taking off the way I came.
The idea of returning to Aaron so soon twisted in my gut and rose anger under my skin, so I set on wandering the streets of my home town for a while.
Maybe out of a habit, or a subconscious thought that did not spark my attention, but either way I found myself staring up at the place I originally escaped. My gut twisted of returning so soon, even if I hadn't returned to this exact location.
The lights were off, the house pitch black. Mom was most likely out with one of her new boyfriends, or just casually taking it. Nerveless, I crossed yard towards the tree. The tire swing still dangled by mere threads like it has been since I left. My fingers trailed against the old tree, feelings its bark as it crumbled beneath my fingers, before climbing upon it.
By the time I got to the window, hoping no one saw me as I did so, and really hoped it was open as I left it the night I left. It would just be my luck that I would be caught and arrested by a nosy fuck calling on me than wandering aimlessly in town and contacting my best friend.
The window didn't budge at first. I would not accept this fact that it was locked. My hands lunged to the jutted outline for support as I balanced on a mere semi-flimsy branch. Someone call Cirque Du soleil, I would be hooked if they saw the fucking balancing act I was putting on.
I tried again, pushing up as hard as I could while not trying to fall off. Just as easy, it flew open, all it needed was coaxing. I exhaled before wrapping my hands around the sill and hoisting myself in and through the window.
I landed with a thud on my back, really hoping now my mother, in fact, was not home, nor where any of her boy toys.
For the sake of it, I shut the window and drew the shade so no one could see the activity in the room and draw suspicion.
Aside from the usually glow of the streetlight outside casting warm light into the room, it was dark, just like the rest of the house. I dared risk turning on the lamp that sat at my bed side. Instead, I went for the hall light before returning to the, now better lit, room.
It was weird standing in my room again. I've spent most of my life in here, seeing its walls every night, encasing me when I dared to be home. A sanctuary, a barricade safe haven that would temporary hold off any pervert my mom hosted over that night. It was where I felt most safe in the entire house. So like done before, If in need of a quick escape, I could climb out the window.
I looked around for anything I could take with me, knowing for sure that I would not be coming back. Last time, even though I was pretty positive, there was the uncertainty I would stay gone forever. Who knew that part of me was right for now I stood here again. Of course not in the same aspect as I had thought, but the statement still reigns true. This time I was for sure I would not be returning. Even if I was caught by the police.
My game system, along with most of my video games collection, my guitar, computer, and few items I noticed, were gone. This did not surprise me; my mom probably sold them for extra cash, or one of her hosted whores took them, just as likely someone stole them. I expected them to be gone, but to the actuality upset me; I was really hoping they were actually here.
Nothingless, I moved past my pity and started collecting things and tossing them on my bed. Deep in my closet I found an old suitcase. Though it could have been bigger, it would due, for it was better than nothing. To my luck, I would desire to be as quick as I can with my time in the house. Who knew how long ago my mom left and how soon she would be returning. If she caught me she would most likely scream and yell a me, throw shit, and call the police, but not before, that is if she weren't alone, stuck one of her bone headed play toys on me. Just. Like. Before.
The flashback angered me, making me work quicker and storm across the room. No. I would not let that happen again. I escaped once, and I will once more.
The first things I went for were clothes; I went towards more jeans and sweatshirts. Spring was taking itself to a close soon, so I had to make sure I had enough warm items to suffice me. I grabbed another pair of sneakers, my Doc Martens, and any toiletries or cosmetics I had around. Most likely useless now, but if I did find someplace to stay, I would have favor in them. This shit was too expensive to buy any other account if I had money. If I could take it now, better off not buying it later. I also went at it with a throw blanket before the items added up and I had to sit on the suitcase.
My fingers drummed on suitcase, biting my lip as I pondered. I moved quickly out to the hallway towards the opposite way where my mothers bedroom door stood open. No one was inside, making this a whole lot easier, and confirming most of suspicion of anyone still being here false.
Maybe what I was doing was stupid, and just draw more attention and likeliness of my presence here, and my capture. But I rather take my chances. SO I pocketed some of my moms jewelry, a trail gifts her drug dealing baes have left before the kick to the curb. Most of it was solid gold and would be great to pawn. My temptation to take it all burned on my finger tips as they hovered over the spread on the dresser. I could take it all, pawn it all and be raining in money, or save some for myself. At last I moved my hand away and crammed it into the hoodie. If some pieces went, she would just blame it on stupidity, or scatterbrain, and not thievery. Or maybe suspect some guest took it. If too much or all of it went missing, then she would report it of thievery and draw too much attention, especially if I tried to pawn it later. That, along with items missing from my room, the investigators would have a lead.
Part of me wanted to travel downstairs, just one more time, before I left. Though the idea didn't very much please, I had too many bad memories haunting the walls. But this was for the last time, and then I would never see the place I grew up in again. Going against the other half of me, I traveled downstairs. Aside from some items being gone and new ones appearing in its place, it looked the same. Slobby slut still had the place a wreck. Figures.
Déjà vu trailed its ugly fingers down my spine, reeling memories through me as I trailed the steps, looking at the spots where course actions took place. This place sickened me. Why did I even come down here.
I went to the fridge, and in the overflowing mass of take out containers rotting away, I found a can of RC which I took gingerly and popped open. By the sound, and cleanliness of the can, it was fairly new. And tasted like it, too.
The one thing that still remained about the house as I went back up the stairs, was the lack of pictures hanging anywhere. It's a no brainer my mom had no care at all for me; it was a decision she regretted to not abort me. The only reason I claim to know why she kept me was sympathy and someone to boss around and do shit for her. Other than that, I was dead to her. The feeling was mutual. Along with her ever changing boys, she never kept them around long enough, nor did they ever become important enough, for her to have a framed picture.
I grabbed my suitcase, the jewelry feeling slightly heavy in my pocket, and checked around my room making sure I had all I needed. Most of my clothes fit, others I could live without. If I had more room, and a place to keep it, I would have taken some knickknacks and odd objects that held my interest. But for I lacked both those things, they would have to stay.
AN object caught my eye on my desk. Walking over, my hands encased around the frame, the glass scattered, but the picture still perfect, bringing a smile to my lips. Glancing at the clock on my wall, I walked back over towards the entrance where my suitcase sat, and stuck the frame in the front pocket. Taking in one more look at my room, I dragged the suitcase down the hall and descended the stairs, going out the front door. It was easier to do, and could actually be done this time. I made sure to lock the door before I went back towards Aaron's.
