It all came down this
One-Shot
I was sat on the wooden bench in a park. I didn't know which park, I just knew it wasn't close to my home. My cup of coffee trembled in my hands while I slowly drank it, knowing it would probably be the last one I would ever have in a while. I noticed a couple of snowflakes drift into the hot liquid and disappear as soon as they hit the surface. Looking up at the sky, I realized how grey and cloudy it had gotten and how much it was beginning to snow. Great. Why hadn't I thought of taking my winter coat with me? I mean, it was December for crying out loud! I began to shiver slightly in my dark blue moon-boots, skinny jeans and hoodie. I placed my coffee by my side on the snowflake-covered bench and got my woolen gloves and hat out of my backpack and slid them on my hands and head. My ears and fingers were suddenly bathed in a relaxing warmth, lasting too short for me to savour it properly.
As the land around me was soon turned into a white wonderland, I began to think about the events that had happened in the last month. In early November, I remember hearing the news that Dylan, my best friend, just died. He drowned at one someone's birthday party. I remember crying for hours on end that day, wanting to kill myself we'd been so close. I knew that's the least Dylan would have wanted me to do. I remember those painful steps walking to the bus stop, knowing that he wouldn't be there to greet me when I got on. I remember staring at his empty seat next to me for what seemed like hours, hoping that he would suddenly just appear out of nowhere and shout "Haha! I got you so good!" and everything would go back normal. It never happened. At lunch I would be sitting by myself. Dylan was the only person to have ever actually accepted me for who I was, an outcast. I remember breaking down and crying in the girls' bathroom, nearly throwing up. I remember screaming into my pillow every night for a week because of all the pain I was going through. Without Dylan, I bullied a lot more than before, on one occasion ending up in hospital with a concussion. I missed him so much.
I remember that day when my parents started the fight. I knew how aggressive my dad was, but I never knew it would go as far as it did that day. I got into an argument with my thirteen year old brother and ended up hitting him. He got angry, and broke down my door when I ran into my bedroom. That's when it happened my dad grabbed my brother by his collar and rammed his fist into his rib cage, making him fall to the fall and let out a cry in agony. I ran away for the whole day, only coming back at around 10pm, my knees scraped and bloody from where I fell and tripped so many times, trying to get away as far as I could.
At the time, I didn't have the courage to truly run away from home. Now, as I sat on the bench, I realized that I was really going to do it. Run away from the place I used to call home, now know as hell to me. I coughed, my breath turning into a white cloud. It all came down to this.
I could either return to the 'safety' and 'warmth' of my 'home' or I could run away and never come back again. Where would I go? I already thought that through. My uncle, who I could practically consider as a second dad was sure to take me in for a bit. He lived around 1 hour away by car. He knew my dad was violent and aggressive, but never had the courage to talk to my mom about it.
I checked the time on my Ipod: 3pm. I would have to get going now if I wanted to get to my uncle's house before dark, in case I would happen to get lost. I barely recognized my town in all this snow!
Standing up and swinging my bag over my shoulder, I drank the last remains of my coffee before chucking it in a nearby bin. I then made my way down a path which would lead me out of the park and back into the neighborhood, but the south side, in my uncle's house's direction. I only just realized that a considerable layer of snow was beginning to build on the ground, nearly up to my ankle. This probably wasn't the best day to run away from home, but I didn't go now, I surely never will.
As the land around me was soon turned into a white wonderland, I began to think about the events that had happened in the last month. In early November, I remember hearing the news that Dylan, my best friend, just died. He drowned at one someone's birthday party. I remember crying for hours on end that day, wanting to kill myself we'd been so close. I knew that's the least Dylan would have wanted me to do. I remember those painful steps walking to the bus stop, knowing that he wouldn't be there to greet me when I got on. I remember staring at his empty seat next to me for what seemed like hours, hoping that he would suddenly just appear out of nowhere and shout "Haha! I got you so good!" and everything would go back normal. It never happened. At lunch I would be sitting by myself. Dylan was the only person to have ever actually accepted me for who I was, an outcast. I remember breaking down and crying in the girls' bathroom, nearly throwing up. I remember screaming into my pillow every night for a week because of all the pain I was going through. Without Dylan, I bullied a lot more than before, on one occasion ending up in hospital with a concussion. I missed him so much.
I remember that day when my parents started the fight. I knew how aggressive my dad was, but I never knew it would go as far as it did that day. I got into an argument with my thirteen year old brother and ended up hitting him. He got angry, and broke down my door when I ran into my bedroom. That's when it happened my dad grabbed my brother by his collar and rammed his fist into his rib cage, making him fall to the fall and let out a cry in agony. I ran away for the whole day, only coming back at around 10pm, my knees scraped and bloody from where I fell and tripped so many times, trying to get away as far as I could.
At the time, I didn't have the courage to truly run away from home. Now, as I sat on the bench, I realized that I was really going to do it. Run away from the place I used to call home, now know as hell to me. I coughed, my breath turning into a white cloud. It all came down to this.
I could either return to the 'safety' and 'warmth' of my 'home' or I could run away and never come back again. Where would I go? I already thought that through. My uncle, who I could practically consider as a second dad was sure to take me in for a bit. He lived around 1 hour away by car. He knew my dad was violent and aggressive, but never had the courage to talk to my mom about it.
I checked the time on my Ipod: 3pm. I would have to get going now if I wanted to get to my uncle's house before dark, in case I would happen to get lost. I barely recognized my town in all this snow!
Standing up and swinging my bag over my shoulder, I drank the last remains of my coffee before chucking it in a nearby bin. I then made my way down a path which would lead me out of the park and back into the neighborhood, but the south side, in my uncle's house's direction. I only just realized that a considerable layer of snow was beginning to build on the ground, nearly up to my ankle. This probably wasn't the best day to run away from home, but I didn't go now, I surely never will.
♠ ♠ ♠
Dylan was a real person. He wasn't my best friend, but we were still friends. He was 9 years old when he died.1996-2005. Rest in peace, kid.