The Long Journey Ahead

I'm running away. People can call me a coward; I don't care. All I do is cause drama and pain. The letter I wrote to Alex wasn't from Alex. It was from Katrina. I don't know how she got a hold of it, but she did.

She wants to meet me to make sure I'm okay. Why do I have a feeling she's only saying that to get me to come back home?

It killed me to have to read the letter. She told me that everyone's depressed that I'm gone. They all want me to come back so they can stop worrying and get some sleep. Everyone is worried except for one person.

Father must be so happy that he was right. His daughter fucked up in life and I'm sure that's what he wanted the world to know. I messed everything up and now I’m running back to my problems. I’m giving in to him.

Was it stupid of me to run away from my problems? I could have endure the abuse for a few more years. After that, I'm gone. I'd never have to see him again.

Maybe they're right. Maybe it was a huge mistake. I have to leave.

I stuffed the letter into my back pocket and opened my bedroom window. It's much easier to jump out of this window. I'm not as high up from the ground and there was grass instead of hard concrete.

I threw my suitcase out first. The grass silenced any sounds it would make. I smirked; running away would be easier this time.

I looked back at my bedroom door. It wasn't because I was afraid someone would bust in through the door. It was because I didn't want to leave. Sighing, I knew I had to do this. They're better off without me. I jumped out the window, landing on the soft grass. I positioned my suitcase the right way and dragged it behind me as I ran towards the one place that I was always welcome: the train station.

Frank.

My eyes burst open with astonishing speed. I looked at my clock. Why the hell am I up so early? It's barely one in the morning.

I groaned, turning over and closing my eyes. Going back to sleep was a really hard task at hand. Usually I just fall right back into my dream world but something was pricking at my mind tonight. I just had this weird feeling and it wouldn't go away.

Sighing, I got out of bed and walked downstairs. I checked the kitchen, living room, and basement all on the first floor. Everything was fine. I walked back upstairs and checked the bathroom, mom's room, my room, and finally Jes' room that was in the farthest part of the house.

Slowly, I opened the door. The window was wide open, letting a cold breeze in. I shivered, tiptoeing to the window and closing it shut. I shivered again. Something was wrong here.

She was sleeping in her bed, with the covers over her head. If she was sleeping, why didn't I see any movement from underneath the blanket? Why didn't I hear any breathing?

I ran to her bed, throwing the blanket to the floor. This isn't her! These are her pillows. "Shit!" I cursed. Starting to panic, I went to her dresser, looking for her clothes. Everything was gone. All her clothes and shoes were gone.

"MOM!" I bellowed.

She ran into the room, with a robe on. "Frank, what's wrong?" She rubbed her eyes, adjusting them to the darkness of the room.

I noticed a piece of paper on top of the dresser. I reached for it and flipped it over. 'I'm sorry' was all it said.

I turned back to mom, tears filling up in my eyes. "Mom...she ran away."