I think I'm ready. No, I know I'm ready. As I packed my belongings in my black bag, I started to think whether I am doing the right thing, or not.
Was it worth it? I thought to myself. Should I leave my aunt, who did everything to make me happy, who did everything to keep me safe? Should I pack my bags and go? Well, it was too late for that. I already started packing, and this opportunity is too great to walk past.
My aunt is asleep in her bright, but dark bedroom. I could hear her snoring, peacefully, as if she were in a tropical rainforest. I began to wonder if I should leave a note. Maybe I should. She doesn't deserve to not know where I am. After all, she has done a lot for me. But if I do let her know, she'll probably try to contact the police, and create a search team. I'd be way too embarrassed going back to school, and everyone is gossiping about me and the "incident".
This is exactly why I need to hurry up and go. It is 12:00 am and it'll take hours to get where I'm heading. San Francisco is the name. Where I grew up with my mother and father. Where I learned to love, and learned to forgive. But when they passed away, I was sent to New York, to live with my aunt, not knowing anyone nor anything that would come my way. Sadly, nothing came my way, so it really shouldn't matter whether I leave. Nobody will notice. My aunt is too caught up in work, no one really knows me in school, so what difference will it make?
Now, I exit through the brown, rusty door. Leaving is hard, but loving is even harder.
