If Only

The Journey

The cold bit at my ankles like a rabid dog, my thin jacket not at all protective against the bitter winter air. I brace myself as I make my way, into the brisk wind, towards the bus stop. Frigid, I desperately await the city bus.

Sure my toes have fallen off from the frozen winds, I cautiously climb the stairs onto the bus. The driver looks at me suspiciously. I smile shyly and continue to the back seats. On the way to the back, I pass a seat occupied by a boy, about my age, facing the window with headphones in. I am tempted to approach him, but am doubtful that he will even notice me, an invisible freak.

Settled in my frost covered seat, I reach into my bag and pull out my phone. The stupid thing is dead, but just the sense of its weight comforts me. I put it back, dragging out my blue spiral notebook that I stole from Staples when I was 12. Flipping through the tattered pages, I find the address I'm going to near the back, on one of the last pages. My mother's handwriting brought back memories...memories I'd rather not relive at the moment.

Running my hand over the page, I think about what my mother had said about that place.
"There are people like you there. You will make a lot of friends, Lucy, I promise. I want you to get to see the world as it is, not how they want you to see it."
I remember nodding along, not aware of the journey this one little address would take me on.