Run Away
When they returned to school after their suspension, they did their best to keep their head down. The bullies kept teasing them and pushing them. They kept quiet and took it. After all, there was nothing else they could do. After the suspension, the chance of any adult at the school actually believing them dropped from slim to zero.
Each day, they'd clear out their desk bit by bit. They'd take home their favourite pencils, art notebook, little knickknacks, an origami animal, all the small non-essential items. By the time the last week of school came, all that was left inside were a few notebooks, two pencils and an eraser.
Their whole existence at this school fit neatly inside their mostly empty desk. If they could bring themselves to care, they might feel sad. Now though, they felt nothing. Seeing the tattered, ruined notebooks full of near failing assignments only strengthened their apathy. It never mattered to begin with.
During the last two weekends, they had made it to the mall and the bus station. They purchased the bus ticket easily enough, telling the worker that they were visiting family a few towns over and had begged their parents to let them buy the ticket themselves. They were a big kid after all. The desk clerk swallowed those lies easily. It was almost pathetic how easy it was to lie to adults when you told them something positive. They only wanted to see convenient tales. Anything inconvenient made them uncomfortable enough to bury their heads in the metaphorical sand.
The tickets were easily carried in their pockets. The mall is where they made their first larger purchases. Their backpack had been roughed up enough by their classmates throughout the year that their parents were willing to give them money for a new one. They'd even suggested that a new back for the summer camp would be a good idea. That thought made them gag inside.
A sporting goods store had what they needed. A large bag for camping, a child sized bedroll, small person-size tarps for tents, short bungie cords, a small firestarter pack, and large water bottles. They decided that one should be fine, and if there was extra space in their backpack after fitting everything else in, that they could swipe a bottle or two from their parents cupboards. They could stay empty until they got to Ebott town though. Full bottles would be heavy, and they could easily stop at a library or public park and fill them up closer to the mountain.
Luckily enough, they were able to squish the bedroll and tarp into their bag without issue. The bedroll was vacuum-sealed and the tarp was tightly folded in its packaging. The fire-starting supplies were separated and placed into the outer pockets of the bag.
The second weekend saw them at the pharmacy, where they were able to purchase some basic bandages, a tube of antibacterial ointment, and a 24-pack of protein bars. That's 8 days of 3 bars per day if they were conservative. In the even that climbing a mountain made them hungry (and it probably would) they could half that and say they had enough food for about 4 days. That should be plenty of time to hide away form their parents before finding a payphone or a police station.
As nice as a few changes of clothes would be, they decided on only taking one extra shirt, one pair of underwear, and one pair of socks. They figured that the shorts would survive 4 days without cleaning, but the shirt and undergarments could be soaked in a river or pond to remove the sweat smell, at the very least. Hygiene wasn't going to be super important for just a few days, but at least having rinsed clothes would make them feel a little less gross when they had to return to the town.
Before they knew it, school was over. They had their last day, the teacher put on a movie that they couldn't remember the title of, students scrambled to get their friends to sign their yearbooks, and they were mostly ignored. All in all, the last day of class went pretty well. They hadn't spoken a word at school since their suspension, and the other kids were finally leaving them alone.
Is this what conforming is supposed to be like? They couldn't say they hated it, but they couldn't say that they liked it or felt relief either. All they could feel was apathy. At the end of the day, they put their few school supplies into their beat up backpack and left without turning back. They intentionally left their yearbook behind in their desk. Maybe someone would claim it from the lost and found one day and fill it up with signatures from their friends. The book wouldn't be loved in their possession. It was better that someone else find it and take it.
It was the only thing that their classmates hadn't tried to destroy, since it looked the same as everyone else's. Too bad it wouldn't be missed.
Report cards would arrive in the mail tomorrow, and then they were due to be sent to that camp two day slater, on Sunday. The idea was that campers would arrive on Sunday night so they could start their experience bright and early on Monday morning. They didn't intend to be there.
Their bus to Ebott left town at 12pm on Saturday, and was supposed to arrive in Ebott around 2:30. It wouldn't be hard to convince their parents that they wanted to spend the last day in town wandering about and playing in the local parks. Their parents probably wouldn't even notice that they had run away until dinner time, at which point they'd probably already be on the mountain.
They should be anxious or nervous or excited or guilty or something. They should be trembling in anticipation of pulling off this heist and potentially being caught before they could escape.
They still felt nothing. Their body was moving and doing everything it needed to do while they sit back in their mind and watched it all happen.
Friday night, their parents scolded them for their barely passing grades all year. The comments section even mentioned how reclusive and uncooperative they'd supposedly been the last two weeks. Their parents were convinced that this evidence supported their beliefs that a conversion camp would fix their child.
They said nothing and went up to their room. They double checked their new backpack to make sure it had everything. The main pouch had the bedroll, the tarp, and a small water bottle from their parents' cupboard. The second pouch had their extra clothing and all the protein bars. The smaller pockets and pouches contained the firestarter materials. The ticket was in the pocket of the shorts they'd wear tomorrow, and the cord was looped around the strap of their backpack. The large water bottle from the sports store was set beside it all. They had printed a map of Ebott town and folded it up in their pocket. They were ready. All they had to do was get up tomorrow and leave.
They slept soundly through the night and woke up at a reasonable 8:30. Acting on autopilot, they brushed their teeth and put on the clothes that they had laid out las night. They said hello to their parents and enacted the first step of their plan over breakfast.
"Can I go out today? I'd like to spend one day around town before going to camp." They asked.
Their mother glared at them, "And why should we allow that? You should be spending today reflecting on your behaviour, your grades, and exactly why you are going to this camp in the first place."
They lowered their gaze. Those words were probably supposed to hurt, but nothing could touch them right now. They just had to make the motions and say the words. "I wanted to see if a couple of the girls from class wanted to hang out at the park today. I was starting to get to know them right when school ended, but now I won't see them all summer." The lie fell easily from their lips. Pretending to have made some female friends might be the only thing their mom would let them leave the house for.
Their mom paused, considering. Then they went for their trump card, "I also thought I might ask them to go to the dollar store with me to get some camp stuff. Like pretty charms for my bag, or nice string for making friendship bracelets. You said camp would be a place for me to make friends like normal kids, so I thought I could ask them to help me choose something."
Their mom observed them closely, looking for signs in their face that they were sincere. Fortunately, they were usually not terribly expressive to begin with. They put all their thoughts toward just how much they wanted to get to the bus station without incident. It should make them look like they were earnest in meeting up with the made-up school friends.
After a few moments, their mother sighed and waved at them. "Very well. I suppose if you've put in the effort to make some friends before the end of school, the least I can do is let you say goodbye to them. Just make sure that you're home by supper."
They curled their lips into a smile and squinted their eyes, "Thank you so much! I'll make sure I have no regrets after today!" they exclaimed. This, at least, was the truth.
After breakfast, they ran upstairs and grabbed their bag and water bottle. The put their shoes on quickly and shouted goodbye to their parents. Luck was on their side that their parents didn't notice that the water bottle was empty. They ran to the end of their street then began walking. Public transit would take them to the bus station, and then they'd be on their way.
They still felt nothing.
Security at the bus station was surprisingly relaxed. Their school ID was enough proof to let them on the bus without a parent, and they were able to doze for the two and a half hour trip to Ebott. They had made it to the town without issue and took out their map. T
here was a bus directly from the bus station to a public library where they were able to fill up their water bottles. From there, another bus took them directly to the stop closest to the mountain. There were advertisements on the bus for wilderness camps held during the summer. Posters of smiling children and teenagers with a heading saying, "Learn to be yourself in the natural landscapes of Mt. Ebott National Park!"
The bus driver glanced at them as they got off at the stop in the middle of nowhere, alone. They started walking towards the mountain in the distance.
They still felt nothing.
It was dinner time now. Their parents must be wondering why they aren't back yet. They didn't bring a cell phone, so their parents couldn't call them. They were probably out looking at the nearby parks and the mall. Maybe they were even looking for the yearbook they'd left behind to find out who was in their class. If they had the book, they could look up the parents of the girls in the phonebook and call them. Too bad the book was at school.
Were their parents worried? Angry? Upset? Relieved? Thankful? They didn't know, and they weren't sure that they wanted to know either. It didn't matter anyways. It's not like they could feel guilt or regret right now. They couldn't even feel proud for executing their plan and running away. They couldn't feel anxious about being caught alone by park rangers or scared of meeting wild animals at night. There was a wall between them and what they could feel. Their mind could touch the wall and look through the wall, but it could reach the feelings on the other side.
They followed the dirt roads until they could see the ranger towers. From there, they made their way through the brush towards the bottom of the mountain. They were going to try to find a water source so they could preserve their city water as long as possible, then follow it to try to find shelter. A cave would be nice, but a big tree or leafy bush would be sufficient. They only had to stay outside for a couple of days, after all.
After and hour or so of walking, they found a small stream that trickled down the rocks. The source appeared to be somewhere up the mountain. They could only hope that they find somewhere to sleep before dark.
As the sun fell, they found a large bush to settle under for the night. They ate one of their bars and took a drink from the stream. The water looked clear, so they figured it would be okay to drink. It tasted like minerals and iron, but it did the job and quenched their thirst. They made sure to store the wrappers in one of the pockets of their bag. It would be bad of rangers found the litter and followed the trail to find them. It was warm enough that they felt they didn't need a fire tonight. When the sun set, they settled down and slept.
They still felt nothing.
They woke up the next day, feeling a hot and a little queasy. Raw water probably wasn't the best thing for them. They rolled up their pack and tarp, fastening them to their bag with the bungie cord. They were walking slower than yesterday, but that was fine. They didn't have a real destination in mind. They were just climbing the mountain. Maybe they could make it to the top without being found? Would that make them feel proud?
Would that make them feel anything?
They didn't know, but they didn't have any better ideas.
Their first full day on the mountain passed without any surprises. They just hiked and climbed, following the stream and ignoring the pain in their gut from the indigestion. The second night, they found some leaves, twigs, and branches to start a small fire. They knew enough to clear any detritus and debris from the area and surround it with stones to prevent spread. There was a chance that park rangers would see the smoke, but it was summer, Loads of people probably came and camped here over the summer. They had no reason to check in on this one fire specifically when there was no evidence of a brushfire.
The second full day on the mountain, they had a close call. They had been in the quiet of nature for almost 2 days, and their ears were sensitive to new sounds. There was a park ranger calling their name in the direction of last night's campsite. It was a good thing they'd gotten an early start that morning and didn't leave a trail. As they heard him move closer, they found a large bush to hide behind. The ranger would likely pass them by and follow the animal trails along the stream, as they had been doing the past two days.
How did the rangers think to call their name specifically here? Did their parents call the police? Did the police contact the bus and train stations for tickets under their name?
The ranger was close enough that they could hear him use his radio. "No sign of the kid here. She's not answering to her name if she is around here, and the only evidence is a tiny fire pit that could honestly belong to anyone. Though marks around the fire pit suggest it was only one person, and that they were small. If it's her, she either took off into the bush or doesn't want to be found. We'll need a chopper to scan the area. If she's hurt, we might be able to see her from the skies."
That was good information. They needed to stay under cover once the ranger left the area and to maybe stay off the easiest trails. Or maybe they should follow the easy trails. They didn't feel great, and they'd be able to move more easily along well trodden paths. They might even find a natural cave or something.
They knew they could let this be over and get caught now. The ranger would take them to the base of the mountain and either the authorities or their parents would take them home. But if they went home now, they might still be sent to camp. It was only Tuesday now, so they hadn't missed much of it. Not enough to be excused from attending, in any case.
No, their only option was to keep hiding until their food ran out, then maybe set up a smoky fire to be found. Or go to a clearing and start burning grass and pine needles. Anything that would catch the attentions of the rangers. But only when they ran out of food and water. The longer they could stay hidden, the less likely it was that they'd still be sent to that camp.
They'd probably be grounded for life for running away. Maybe their parents would be angry with them and send them away somewhere else. They couldn't feel anything about that. They still had their emotions trapped behind a wall in their mind. In their apathy, they could think clearly. They knew that they didn't want to go to that conversion camp no matter what, so they had to stay hidden as long as possible.
This meant they needed to stay within easy distance from a water source, even if it made them a little sick, they needed to find better shelter than a bush in case it rained, and they should probably conserve their food as much as possible. They didn't know what plants were edible, so they weren't going to risk eating them to preserve their bars.
When the ranger was out of earshot, all they could do was travel slowly up the mountain, looking for a trail.
As they climbed, they noticed that they were nearing the crest of one of the large slopes on the mountain. They were getting tired and tripped over some debris on the ground. The dirt scraped their palms and a wayward stone nicked their forehead. They rinsed their hands with their remaining city water, then put band-aids and antibacterial ointment on them. They did their best to clean the blood off of their forehead, but had to settle for a mostly clean pad with ointment and some loose wrapping. This was inconvenient, but they'd be fine. They just had to drink stream water no matter what now.
The only good news was that it looked like they'd accidentally tripped onto a trail. There were small neon trail markers and a wood sign with the words "Be Sure" carved into it. They didn't know what that meant, but they knew for sure that they needed to keep climbing and find shelter. It was nearing nighttime.
They followed the trail markers up to a small clearing in front of a small water spring and a cave entrance. They should have felt relieved or happy at their good luck, but they still couldn't feel anything.
Without delay, they set up their bedroll in the cave. They were lose to a main trail, but they were blocked from view of the sky and there was a natural spring right outside. They could easily clean their clothes and get water without fear. There was no way they wouldn't hear the helicopter coming if they needed to hide before their food ran out. They were going to be fine for the next few days.
They would do it. They would have successfully run away, and then successfully avoided capture until they wanted to be found on their own terms. Nothing could be better than that.
They wanted to say that they hoped their parents would let them stay at home for the summer, but they knew that it wouldn't be realistic. They should be proud that they had pulled off their scheme to run away and evade capture for a week, but they weren't. They should be sad that their parents would probably still send them away or institutionalize them with basket cases or juvenile delinquents. They should be angry that this was all necessary in the first place. They should hate their parents for betraying them and never listening.
But they still couldn't feel anything.
Well, that wasn't quite true. They felt a sliver of something through the wall in their mind. A small sliver of hate for themselves and how they couldn't just be normal. They hated their stupid brain for not just feeling like a girl, whatever that felt like. They hated that they never fit in. They hated that their voice could make sounds and that it didn't matter. They hated themselves for not being good enough for the life their parents wanted them to have.
They hated themself for never being able to belong.
They slept without a fir that night. The dark thoughts wanted to keep them blind to the rest of the world outside themselves and the cave walls.
Now it was Wednesday, and they had time to get up and look around the cave. First, they listened for any helicopter blades or park rangers. When they only heard birdsong and crickets, they changed their clothes and set about having breakfast and washing. Their wet clothes could be left on some nearby rocks in the sun to dry.
The clean clothes felt nice on their clammy skin. Drinking raw water was starting to have a stronger effect on them. They only needed to make it two more days. If they made it to Friday, then they would have missed a full week of camp. Maybe then they would be in the clear. If they missed a full week, how could the be expected to integrate into the camp? They definitely wouldn't be able to go.
They spent their days watching the clouds and listening to birds and crickets and the occasional squirrel climbing a tree. Their clothes dried in the afternoon, so they folded them and placed them in their backpack. The clothes were a bit stiff, but the spring didn't have the advantage of soap or fabric softener to clean the clothing. That would be fine. They didn't have to stay out for too much longer.
Before dusk, they decided to look a bit farther into the cave. If it was big enough, they might be able to hide around a corner or large rock or something, in case the rangers came by while they were sleeping. Unfortunately, this was not the case. The cave was just a small mouth that provided shelter from the rain and wind. Inside, there was a hole with some moss and vines hanging in it.
When they looked into the hole, they couldn't see the bottom. It would probably be best if they stayed away, but something was calling to their intuition. Something about the hole was telling them to go inside.
They still couldn't feel anything.
What was at the bottom? Did they want to know? Is it worth trying to climb down?
Is it worth trying to climb back down the mountain?
What was waiting for them if they went back? They couldn't imagine anything good from their parents. Either their mom would be angry and scream at them, or their dad would tell them that they needed more intensive professional help "for their own good."
Was it worth it? What did their life mean, anyways? Their only value seemed to be the parts of them that could pretend to be normal. Their value was a pretty lie and a mask that they wore to keep their parents from getting upset and to make their classmates leave them alone.
What's to say that they wouldn't get stuck down the hole? What would it matter if they never came back up?
They couldn't feel anything.
This was a big decision, so they decided to sleep on it.
The only thing they saw in the morning was the stone ceiling of the cave. They turned their head and looked at the hole. It was still there, and they still felt drawn to it. Nothing to be done about it then.
They couldn't feel anything.
They rolled up their bedroll and tarp. They ate one of their protein bars. They only had 7 left. Maybe the animals would enjoy them, if they found the bag before any park rangers or search teams. They put the bedroll inside their backpack and tied the rolled-up tarp to the handle on top of their bag. They put their bag by the mouth of the cave and placed the empty water bottle beside it.
In their apathy, they could think clearly. Something was drawing them towards the hole, and they were going to satisfy their curiosity. There was nothing remotely emotional about this choice. They couldn't feel anything, after all. It wasn't possible for this to be an emotional decision.
That's what they rationalized.
They would climb down, see what's there, and maybe they'd come back up. If there was something cool at the bottom, or a secret tunnel through the mountain, they'd just have to follow their curiosity to the end.
They walked over and gave the vines a few good tugs. They felt solid enough. If the cave was deep, the vines might just hold their weight.
As they climbed into the hole, they realised that they forgot to think about one important feature of these vines. The parts that were in the holes were slick with moisture from the humidity. Being inside a hole inside a cave, they were never able to dry.
They lost their grip and fell.