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Chapter 2

"I don't see what the big deal is!"

"The big deal, Carter is that you shut yourself out for four years! You developed your own little routine, and you rejected change, and we figured you were depressed or something and then you disappear. There was a change in the Carter schedule and we put two and two together and we thought," Mom said.

"You thought what," I said pressing her. Of course I felt guilty, but she was over reacting,

"We thought you were dead." She said with another exhale of breathe.

"You thought I killed myself didn't you? 'Two and two together' depression and change. How could you think so low of me?" Of course they didn't really know me, but what upsets me the most is the fact that if they thought I was depressed, why didn't they do anything? Real parents would have showed concern.

"How are we supposed to think better of you if all you do is shut yourself in your room?"

"Maybe, I was trying something new. What if I was tired of my 'Carter schedule' and thats what I wanted; change? You didn't even get the depression right."

I closed my eyes and waited for a response. Finally she took a deep breathe, "Carter, ugh. Why do you have to do this to me?" I looked up at her puzzled, "You make me worry, then you fight with me, and then I feel bad. Why do you hurt me?"

I can't believed she just said that! Maybe I misheard her, or maybe I was going to over react myself, or maybe I was dreaming and none of this happened. I was almost at a loss for words. Almost. Maybe it was just all the pent up anger, or maybe it was the deepest part of my soul, but I say the first thing that comes to my mind, "Maybe I should have."

"Maybe you should have what?"

I looked at the ground, "Maybe I should have killed myself. That way we wouldn't be here, and I wouldn't continuously cause you pain, and none of this would have ever happened." I waited for a response. Nothing. I looked up, but only to find her sitting there staring back at me, speechless. I huffed and rolled my eyes. What did I expect? Her to come crawling back to me apologizing? No. I turned my back on her and walked away into my room.

I sat on my bed and I wound up staring at the picture on my wall. My vision kept alternating from unfocused to focused, but even when it was focused I wasn't registering what it was I was looking at.

When I finally looked away it was 12:08. So much time had passed without me even realizing it, but I wasn't just wasting time. I was forming a plan, and it wasn't like its the most well-thought out plan, but it was the only thing I could think of.

So I started packing. I grabbed my back pack and dumped it out all over my bed. I selected a few things out of the pile that I might need. I also added a couple pairs of clothes, and some other select items that were important to me.

In the end, I wound up with a raincoat, a blanket, two pairs of pants, two t-shirts- one short sleeved, one long- four pairs of underwear, four pairs of socks, a toothbrush, a hairbrush, my binder, my diary, three pencils, and a beanie. Plus, I had the clothes on my back. I scanned my room one last time. My eyes fell upon one thing.

I walked over and took the picture off of the wall, tucking it inside my bag. I grabbed a piece of paper from my binder then walked over to my desk and grabbed a pen. Without hesitation, or giving much thought to it I wrote three words:

I'm. Not. Dead.

I tossed my bag out the window and slipped out after it, leaving my room unoccupied with the exception of some lousy piece of paper with the slightest bit of an explanation as to my current state of being.

I hopped on my bike and disappeared into the dark of the night without looking back.