Runaway: 1999
Well you would never believe what I have just done, what I am doing…
I left school. I just left. I didn’t tell a single soul. When everyone went in from lunch, I just walked right through the hallway and out the other side through the back door. I walked right out. It was so easy. I don’t even know why I did it, but I just did it. I needed to get away. It was so weird. A blur, like something came over me, like I had no choice but to leave. So I did. And then I ran. I ran as fast as I could. I was crying the whole time. I knew how bad the rules I just broke were.
And now I know how easy it is to break them…. I thought it would be harder. The truth is, no one seems to care about anything but themselves. No one is actually paying attention. I thought that before, but now I really have proof.
By the way, as I write, this guy keeps driving by me on this cool blue quad. He is HOT. He seems like an older teenager. But I don’t think I should talk to him or anyone, no matter how hot and cool they are. Pretty sure that’s how I am going to end up kidnapped or murdered…
Anyway. I ran all the way from school to walk home on the train tracks to avoid being seen on the street. As soon as I got to the train tracks though I fully froze. I couldn’t move. Something really scary came over me. I heard a train coming and I realized: I could throw myself right in front of it and it would all be over. Everything. So much is in my control.
And even weirder? As I thought about it I realized I wasn’t scared by the idea, it actually calmed me. Does that make me suicidal? At least a little? I guess that is scary to think about. I have a good life, I know. I have nothing to complain about. I am only 12 and everything should be so easy. I feel so dumb for feeling so bad sometimes. Something just isn’t okay in my head though…I feel it. Compared to most kids? My life is great. We have a nice house, my parents are together, my Mom just took me shopping. I have friends. So why am I so depressed and screwed up?
As soon as I left I knew I couldn’t go back. The choice was made. And somehow I feel like if I go back: I will fail. I won’t be okay. And people will think I am pulling a stunt for attention or think I am nuts. I don’t want attention. I just want to be free. I don’t even know what that means, but I feel it. And I just had to leave. So I did and I ran all the way home and changed out of my school uniform into shorts and a tank top. And I put together a bag:
2 bottles of water
1 bottle of Coke
Oat cakes
Oat bars
1 dog bowl
A dog leash
My CD walkman
Brush
Sunglasses
5 CD’s and extra batteries
I wish I had packed more carefully. Like sunblock and vitamins and more water. Oh well. I really left in a hurry I guess.
I’m scared. Really scared.
What will happen to me if I go back? If I don’t? I didn’t bring enough money to last if I run out of food. Which I will eventually. I also shouldn’t have brought Nelly. It isn’t fair to her. It isn’t fair to the family. I thought that maybe if I took her they would know I would be okay with her to protect me and not worry too much. I also wanted her with me for protection. People would bother me less with a big black dog by my side.
I guess if I run out of food I can tell the types of houses that don’t lock their doors. Like my house. Not the fancy houses with alarms. I think it actually would be pretty easy during the day too when people are working. I don’t need to eat much to survive. Grocery stores are also probably easy to steal from. And now I know everyone is so focused on themselves to notice much at all: I can make it work I think. Once I get settled into this life I will figure a way to get Nelly back to the family. Once I know I can be safe on my own.
By the way, I am writing this on some random beach looking out at the Hudson River. Nellz is resting at my feet. I didn’t bring a mirror or a watch or makeup. At first I thought that was a mistake. Now I realize it was exactly how it is supposed to be. I don’t even care what I look like. Alone with myself and Nelly, the only thing that matters is us.
Maybe I am changing already. Maybe this was a good idea after all.
For the first time in a long time: I feel free.
~~~
Author’s Note (2023): This passage was taken directly from a journal entry made in 1999 when I was 12 years old. Edits made are only to spelling and adjusting some grammatical errors for cleaner reading. I was apprehended by the police less than 24 hrs after running away. No real crimes were committed (beyond stealing the family dog). Within the year, I would find a much more accessible escape route, one much closer to home, right there in my parents’ liquor cabinet.
Oh & PS. I TOTALLY blame that fucker on the blue quad for ratting on me :)
