A Weekend in Seattle
Day 2 /Part 2
May 10, 2008
I can feel the wind coming toward us, in a series of dips and twirls. It scrapes against the trees, making a thwack as the branches crash together. When the wind gets to us, it ruffles my hair, and caresses my cheek. It feels nice, even on a cold night. The way it makes me feel more at home. I can almost smell the salt water. But, unfortunately, we are not even close to the final point of our journey. In contrast, we haven't even started, yet.
Kelsi, Morgan, and I are standing on the sidewalk, waiting for the bus to Puyallup. We're all huddled close together, because the night wind is frighteningly cold. Think of the coldest day you can think of. I can say for about 88 of you that this night is colder. I think it's about 20 degrees…not to mention the wind-chill.
I wish I had one more chance to start that day of first grade all over. Then maybe things wouldn't have gone so bad. Maybe mom would still be together with dad. Maybe things would be better for Morgan and Kelsi. I regret this thought, because they wouldn't be born. Mom had them while she was in jail, with some random guy who was in for something like a national manhunt or something.
The bus pulled up, and we got in. Morgan, then Kelsi, and then me. We paid our quarters and found seats toward the middle of the bus, right next to the heater. The doors closed with a swish, and the bus rumbled onward.
An hour later, Kelsi was asleep on Morgan's shoulder, and Morgan was slumped against the side of the seat. Again, I felt boredom, and the anticipation to write. So, I looked back on a prompt I'd never even glanced at.
Write a letter to someone you feel you need to spend more time with.
I knew exactly who I was going to write to. Soon, my whole brain was absorbed in the letter, my pencil making scratch noises on the pear green notebook I was using.
Dear Nathaniel,
I know we don't spend much time together, and I know we've only just met a few years ago, but I am writing this to thank you. I thank you for when we were headed to the house, and mom was shaking me, and I ran. You came looking for me. You protected me in my time of need. And that was one of the nicest things anyone has ever done for me. And I know I may be asking too much, but please, hear me out.
I can tell you why we've left the house.
And why we're not coming back.
Our mother hits us. She has abused me since first grade. In third grade, I called the police on her. In fifth grade, she was back. Back with two new babies. No, they're not from her previous marriage. They're from some guy in jail, this case that we need not go into. When I left for PCA, It was for a reason. I didn't know she'd start abusing Morgan and Kelsi, too.
Therefore, we've left. Moreover, we're not coming back. I'm sorry we've put you through this, if you're worried at all, but we're not taking this pain and suffering anymore. We've had enough. I'm just trying to protect my sisters. Oh, and don't worry. We've got enough money to last us until we get safely to PCA, where Kelsi and Morgan will be staying with me. We've arranged housing and hotel room for the days we'll be gone, and we'll soon be making arrangements for the summer. Again, we are never coming back. I advise you to leave, too. She's a drunk. In addition, no matter how much you may love her, I don't believe she'll ever change. Sorry for the sadness of this note, but it's time we enjoyed the rest of our childhoods.
Sincerely,
Quinn
P.S Please do not tell our mother. I have a feeling she will stop at nothing to get us, and I want only safety for my sisters. We've found each other, and we're not letting go again.
I tucked the paper into an envelope, and gave the spare stamp I had a good lick. Once the letter was addressed, it went back into my backpack, where I knew it would be safe.
We arrived in Puyallup at three the next morning. I woke Kelsi and Morgan, and we made our way out onto the sidewalk. From the station, it was only a few blocks to Kelsi's friend's house. We walked along the sidewalk, ignoring the cold morning. We walked in silence. However, it was a good kind of silence. It was as if we knew we had each other, and that was all we really needed. Just the three of us, starting an adventure like the ones we used to play when we were little. Only, this was no child's game. This was the real thing.