|'Sally Face Oneshots'|

'Park Bench'

TW!! || Mention of abuse, bruises, and violence

National Domestic Violence Hotline - 800-799-7233
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February 10th, 1992, 3:36 am

     Travis crouched on the planks of white oak wood that make up his hard bedroom floor as he tied the laces of his scuffed up, neon green high tops over his light grey cotton socks. Travis held onto the edge of the wooden bed frame that squeaked each time he tossed and turned in his efforts to sleep, holding him up while he balanced on his trembling legs, making his way over to his backpack. He reached out his shaky hand and lifted it up by the seemingly ancient, torn strap and fastened each strap around his shoulders.

     Travis had been planning this for months, the day he finally turned 18 years old, when he was no longer a teenager, he would run. He would run and never look back, he would run until his legs gave way underneath him, until his ankles were broken, until his father no longer care about his whereabouts. Travis had suffered enough, like he had suffered just a few hours prior to this little scheme he was plotting.
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February 9th, 1992, 5:28 pm

     Travis stumbled into his small, unadorned bedroom and quietly shut the unsightly, ballet white door, weakly moving his sore arm at an attempt to lock it, although his efforts were in vain, as the lock had been broken. Dragging his limp, scathed body across the polished wooden floor, before allowing himself to collapse onto his unpleasantly old twin sized mattress. The young man then curled up into fetal position, burying his face into the scratchy cotton of his bedspread as he attempted to refrain himself from sobbing uncontrollably, ultimately failing as he choked out sobs of pain and agony into his blanket.
 
   Just 36 minutes prior, his father had found out he had been skipping his classes and had gone into hiding in the school bathrooms. Travis new he was in trouble the moment he noticed how his father gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles had turned white, he knew that all hell would break loose as soon as he walked through the front door of that cold, lonesome house.
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     His body, peppered in black and blue marks, his left eye, swollen from a bruise that never seemed to fade away. Mauve and mulberry wounds shrouded his  knuckles from putting angry fists through the walls, leaving gaping holes in the plain, tacky white drywall. Handprints ghosted across his face to remind him of the slaps, the scratches, the fists, the soreness and burning of each individual inch of his body. His fragile and battered body.

     Travis' leg muscles pulled and ached with every step he took, making it all the more difficult to stand due to his quivering, frail figure, but nevertheless, he unlocked his bedroom window with a click. He gripped onto the white frame and gently inched open the creaking window as to not disturb his sleeping father. Travis was greeted with the chilly night breeze and the navy blue sky, dotted with bright stars. He zipped up the auburn jacket he had thrown on over his magenta polo sweater, covering his partially tarnished cross necklace.

     Travis' legs were now dangling off the edge of the side of his house, glancing down at the bottom of his two story house, his grip tightened on the window frame. He held on and pivoted his body to be facing the window, while he held on to the bottom of the dirty white window sill, hanging on desperately as if he was hanging off the side of a cliff above a rocky ocean. Well, there was no going back now. His eyes squeezed shut and his teeth clenched as he released his hands and fell 12 feet in the air with a short lived yelp. He fell into the grass, damped with the early morning dew, landing with a grunt as the small blades of grass broke his fall.

     Travis slowly opened his eyes as he pushed himself up in the cold, wet, grassy lawn and propped himself up on his arms. Slightly shaken from the adrenaline rush resulting from the from the fall, he got on his feet and stood up straight, gazing wide-eyed at the clouded, midnight blue hue of the starry night sky, the brightness of the crescent moon shadowed by the passing stratus clouds. It was beautiful really, a lovely and short lived distraction from the situation Travis had gotten himself into. He didn't know he could get this far, he was anxious, puzzled, yet proud of himself for finally leaving that house of empty sorrow and misery, where he'd known only anger and pain. Tears threatened to fall, tears from the past of built up rage, fear, despair and guilt, and tears from the place in his heart left unexplored for so long. Happiness, pride, hope, and peace.

     The journey wasn't over yet, he had no place to go. Travis' uncertainty about going through with his decision to escape had led him to not plan ahead, so now he had nowhere to stay until he was safe from the wrath from his father. So, Travis walked, he didn't know where, each step he took had no purpose whatsoever on his sore muscles from the events from earlier that night. Travis simply let his subconscious take over and followed whatever trail first came to mind. However, he found his legs had taken him down a path, a familiar one in which he hadn't seen in years, early memories from the last time he had smiled in forever, where his wounds were healed and not left to bleed out. The only place he felt loved, the park. A simple design of a playground with slides, monkey bars and swing sets, complete with benches made of wood with  awnings to hang above the heads of parents as to not sweat from the sun while their children screamed and played. Remembering how he was once one of those children.

     Travis gently hopped over the wooden fence, looking around at the eerily empty  playground, illuminated by the white streetlights, hung up with charcoal black, metal poles. Trees still standing after all these years, with carvings of names and hearts still engraved while tire swings swung along to the gentle, cold breeze. Glancing around, Travis' eyes landed on a wooden bench, in which a tattered awning hung from above, leaving a dark shadow from the artificial light of the streetlights. Travis made his way over towards the old bench, grabbing a hold of his backpack strap and pulling off the bag to place it on the bench. Sitting down next to the bag of food, water, and clothing, Travis shivered from the cool night air, while his blonde hair and brown roots blew like curtains in the wind. His mind felt empty, yet in the back of his mind, he couldn't help but wonder what was next. How would he survive? Would he even make it through the dark night? He didn't know, but what he did know, was that he was never going back.

     Travis' throat bubbled with anxiety, yet his heart beat calmly in his chest as he sat and stargazed for what felt like hours. He finally felt truly free, and for the first time in ages, Travis smiled.

-1218 words