Home..

About a run-away finding a person who understands

I sit on the curb, waiting...

My tears run black as I cry, salty drops of water hitting the cement with a soft plop. I shouldn't of worn eyeliner today. Course...You guys shouldn't have reacted that way either. It's no big deal.

Maybe I'll go back one day, I think, Just to see you both.

Maybe not, you WILL hate me then, I'll just ruin your life again.

Cars screech by on the street, I need to get to New York. I stick out my thumb, the way I see it in the movies. A sleek blue Toyota Prius stops and a young woman lets me in. She's nothing like what I expected. I had expected an old perverted man, unshaven, with a crappy car, and an interest in young girls. But this woman wore a smile, and locks of platinum-blonde hair hung long past her pale delicate shoulders. The woman also had a little kid in the backseat, who was playing on a DS-lite and kicking the passenger seat.

 

"Honey," the woman said, her accent thick, like a southern, "Where do you live? I'll take you home now." 

She smiled at me again, her straight teeth gleaming white.

I can't go home with you guys there..

I wiped my eyes again, knowing all I was going was smearing black all over my face. I had to lie to her, I thought. Yet when I opened my mouth, I told her. 

"2327 Utah Avenue." I say quietly as I climbed into the seat beside her.

I'm going home, I think.

You'll be there...

"Sweetie, are you running away?" The woman asks on the way, turning on her blinker as we start to move down 4th street. I look down and fumble with the glass buttons on my plain black sweater.

"I was trying to.." I say as she nods, her shocking white smile suddenly gone.

She looks at me sincerely, her green eyes full of sentiment.

"It would've been a mistake, ya know..." She whispers.

I stare at the woman as she pulls onto another road. How would would this woman know? Her life...It would seem perfect, at my perspective. But maybe her mom has abusive...Maybe her father raped her...Or maybe she just had a tortured life at school.

The rest of the ride is in silence as I wonder.

I get out of the Prius wondering still. The little girl--Emma--waved from the window, and I wave a little wave back, without smiling. They pull out of the driveway and make they're way along the road, and I linger out in the cold for a moment, contemplating why I came back. Then I turn and look at the house. The paint is chipping and the picket fence is muddy brown from the years it's endured through all the storms and rain.

I'm home though, either way.

In the window, my mom's crying and you're on the phone talking hurriedly.

The only two people who really know me...

My mom and my dad.

I turn the knob slowly, hearing a click as it opens and I step into doorway.

You look up and so does mom.

I'm home...

Author's Note

Be nice..

Reviews

[sorellaflowers]

I love this(= great work

[Brian W. Hastings]

This is really good. The emotions are felt on a pure level. This is also a story that might bring hope to someone who reads it. That is rare to find.

[Arsenic Nemesis]

Aww, that's so sweet, the ending very near brought a tear to my eye (and that's quite hard, trust me) Also, it's very true, there is no one who knows you more than you're parents I agree. This is a very sweet piece of writing, I really enjoyed it. Very powerful too and I'm also glad you kept a mysterious air about the woman who picked this runaway up, it may have sort of killed the mood if you gave an indepth story behind her, but you didn't which is good. Really liked this, very touching. Farewell, mortal~