Survival

Survival: Chapter One

• Chapter One: •

When The Worst Day of My Life happened, I never thought I would end up the way I thought it would be-screwed up with no reason to live. The chaos started: July 10, 2006. I can still remember that day because it replays in my mind almost every day of every hour. I almost wish I had Alzheimer's in order for my memories to be deleted.

That day I was at school. I was running around, playing some childish game with some childish people. Life was normal; I was normal. But things changed.

As a child, your brain doesn't fully understand the whole concept of life. I never planned to live like this but life made me. Fact: don't believe that only you can choose your own destiny. It's a lie. It's a freaking lie. We think life will be generous to us because we were generous to it but that's not as exactly as it is. Well, not for me, to be exact. I always imagined a better life for me. A life where I didn't cause trouble. A life where I didn't need a psychologist to tell me life was going to get better, to tell me my family died for the reason of some bullshit theory. A life where each dream I dreamt wasn't of my family dying while I watched and I couldn't do anything about it. A life where I could live like anybody else--an individual with friends, and a family, and a planned future. Grow up. Get married. Have kids. Teach my kids what my dad taught me and what he didn't teach me. Die happily with my grandchildren. However, what so-called "destiny" destroyed my life. If destiny was a person, I would kill it.

Now here's my destiny. I am running away from my foster home with nothing planned, but maybe finding a reason to live. With only the clothes I'm wearing, and some cash I might've stolen from my foster Dad while he recovered from a drunk night.

My foster family was clearly not a real, functional family. More like, strangers who lived with me, who I despise as much as they despise me. The only one I didn't want to assassinate in their sleep was Sammy. With only living eight years living on this planet he was smarter than me in every sense of the word. He's advice only helped. He was the reason why I improved a bit. He stopped me from many fights, he stopped me from going to juvy. But he didn't stop me from running away, even though he tried.

"Don't leave, please," Sammy said. "Running away is not going to fix anything. You're just adding more problems to your life."

"Sammy there is nothing for me here," I said, "this place only brings me bad memories. In order for me to get better, I need to get the hell out of here."

"But I'll miss you. You're like my brother, Adam," Sammy cried out.

"I know. And I'm sorry Sam. You will be the only one I'll miss. I'll be glad to know I wouldn't see the rest of this assholes," I said with a bit of a smile.

He laughed because he approved of my opinion.

"Well, deep down I want you to get better, you know," he said. "Since I first saw you in this house, you always had a pessimistic face. And I want that change, I do. I want you to get better."

"Thanks for understanding, brother. If I ever come back to this place, it will only be to visit you," I exclaimed.

"Goodbye, Adam."

"Goodbye, brother."

That was the last time I spoke to my brother. And I still think of what he told me: if leaving was the best option then I hope only life gets better.

Maybe he was right. However, my only defense I have for not taking into consideration his advice is that I'm not smart. I'm what my foster mom call's me a "worthless dumbass". Maybe that's the reason why I was kicked out of every school I stepped foot into. Always got into fights, didn't do my work, disrespect everyone. I even cussed out the principal one time.

Yeah, school. Invented for the smart, the people who like to try to succeed. The people that dream to be doctors, policemen, astronauts, lawyers, teachers, the next Michael Jordan and in overly confidently and stupid occasions: people who want to be the next President. Like it's so easy running your own life? Imagine running a freaking country. People have to be realistic. Seriously.

School was not made for me.

I wonder how my teachers, my NOT friends will react to know I'll never show up at school again. Maybe they'll throw a party. Maybe I'll throw a party to celebrate their extinctions from my life. I'm one-hundred and one percent sure of what kind of rumors will be spread about my sudden disappearance. Lies, exaggerations, and a combination of both will be spread like a plague.

"He probably committed suicide. Finally!"

"Maybe Adam got shot."

"He got arrested; I saw it on the news."

"He got abducted by aliens. No, wait no one would want that loser--he definitely shot himself."

Yep, that's my high school. The place where we apparently develop your future, or on other occasions, the place where you get high, pregnant.

I was the kid with no friends, but honestly, I never wanted friends after The Worst Day of My Life. The only thing I wanted was my family back. Mom, Dad, Luke, and Haley. Unfortunately, that will never happen. If I could alter the past, it would be to bring my family from the dead.

Now to keep on walking to the side of the road, making "please pick me up" hand gestures hoping somebody will take me away from this garbage of a town, and somewhere to start from zero.

Seventeen years old and a runaway. Not bad, huh? I feel so accomplished for everything I've done (sarcasm). At least I'm not dying from an overdose like Joey McBrien or getting girls pregnant or getting high behind the cafeteria after school. I would tell you the list of everyone who gets high, but I would never finish. I know I'm fucked up, but some people can beat me in winning the Worst Fucked Up Kid award.

I've been walking a little over an hour according to my watch. I honestly thought someone would've already picked me up by now. In movies, it takes two scenes to get picked up by a stranger in a red Mustang, apparently not in real life.

The sun is on the edge of the horizon. The clouds are transforming colors from white to purple to maroon to reddish. The weather is cold but I ignore it. The ragged up jacket I'm wearing isn't doing the job.

My thumb is getting tired from always raising up when I see a car pass by. I'm not getting any results whatsoever.

And suddenly a car stops beside me and the window of the car starts to roll down. There's a guy in the car, he's alone.

"Hey, kid wanna ride?" The dude asks me. The dude looks like he's in his thirties, with a Duck Dynasty beard and a stank of pot. Should I mention his car doesn't have a front license plate or a rear mirror? Maybe not because it would make me look stupid if I get in. I have two options here. Number one: keep on walking until falling off the edge of the Earth, or number two: accept this stranger's generous help. Or three: wait for a female model to pick me and take me to L.A and live happily forever after.

Think, Adam. What would mom say: "Adam, stranger-danger." What would my foster parents say: "get in, leave, we don't want you here. We'll pay you to leave." What will a stupid kid like me do: get in the vehicle before a cop shows up and takes me back home.

And without responding I get in hoping he's not a lunatic or a rapist, or an undercover alien wanting to take me to his planet. I shut the door slowly hoping not to break the window's glass.

And we take off. Hope we don't meet in the afterlife or on any other occasion, except if I want to visit Sam. And for an instant, I think of the memories I'm leaving behind. This is where I was born. This was where I was raised. This is where my family grew up. This is where they died! And for that reason, I'm leaving in order to stop forgetting the sadness in my life. I don't have to stay in the place where my family grew up in order to remember them. I've should've left years ago! All I need is the memories we shared- locked up in my brain if I have one.

The car's wheels start rolling, and my mind starts to wonder if this is a good idea. Is it to late to reconsider the idea?

No, it's too late. This place doesn't need me, and I don't need it either.

Farewell, my old life. Hello, new life.

I hope.