I'll Protect You ✔️

1

Mark’s POV

Three months. 

That’s how long I’ve been away from everyone and how long I’ve yet to see the outside world. You’d imagine with my long disappearance that maybe I went on a vacation or decided to go off the grid. But that’s where you’re wrong. 

I was walking home one day after coming out of work. I got out at midnight since I have several jobs to keep paying the bills. Since I was little I was always neglected by my mother. My father wasn’t even a part of the picture. And thank goodness. Years later I found out he had murdered an innocent family trying to rob them to buy drugs. I wondered why my mother never told me. She wouldn’t have gained anything from telling me. But she wouldn’t have gained anything if she didn’t tell me. 

I moved away from home as soon as I turned 18. I tried running away before but child services found me under a bridge at the crack of dawn sleeping under a cardboard box. They returned me despite me insisting that my mother was a horrible woman. Instead my mom lied saying that I was a bad kid and always getting dramatic. They believed her. They actually believed the lies she spat out. 

Needless to say that day was full of pain as she threw furniture at me. I ended up locking myself in the bathroom for three days straight and only finally came out when I heard her leave the house. 

My 18th birthday rolled around. Unlike other 18 year olds who got a nice party and cake and maybe even a car and money, I was packing. At 4 am I got up and packed all my essentials into a bag. I didn’t have much. I took a small journal I kept that was given to me by my high school English teacher who treated me as her own son. 

Ms. Johnson was such a nice woman. She knew about my struggles because one day I came in with a black eye. Everyone assumed it was because I got hit with a tennis ball since I was on the tennis team. Ms. Johnson saw through my lies and found out. She always offered me food and a place to stay when things at home got rough. But she died in my senior year of high school from a heart attack. I cried and attended her funeral. I guess she remembered about me because she left me $2,500 in cash. 

At first I refused the money but Ms. Johnson’s granddaughter insisted I take it. I did but didn’t use any of the money. It wasn’t until I finally concocted the plan to run away that I found purpose in my money. I packed the money in my bag but held onto a few hundred bucks in my pocket. 

With one final look, I saluted goodbye to the house that had caused me so much torment. I left a note on the table telling my mom that I’m leaving. I'm pretty sure she didn’t care because a missing child report or search was never made for me. 

“What about college?” you may ask. 

I didn’t go. Despite me being good at tennis and having amazing grades, I simply couldn’t afford it. Applying for financial aid was hard because my mom never gave me answers. Ms. Johnson tried to help before her passing but it simply wasn’t enough. I left school not even graduating with a diploma. I moved away, to another city in search of a better life. 

I was able to find a small apartment that paid under the table. It was cheap but the apartment was bad. Creaky floors and leaky taps. Plus it was located in a sketchy part of the city. It was still better than the place I used to call home. 

I worked at a pizza place for a while until I was laid off because the shop was closing. I found another job at a gas station until I quit because the manager tried to touch me. When no one did anything, I left. 

At this point, I was desperate for money. I didn’t want to use Ms. Johnson’s money since that was my way of remembering her along with the journal. So I worked three jobs part time to make ends meet.