Searching For A Rainbow

ONE-Carson

Even the music blasting through my headphones couldn't drown out the crashing and yelling that was taking place in the kitchen of that tiny ranch house.

And there I sat, in the back corner of my small, dark closet that reeked of mildew, hoping that my father wouldn't be able to find me if he stumbled into my bedroom in his drunken stupor.

I heard my door smash against the wall as it flung open. I paused my music and held my breath, careful not to make a sound.

"Where is she?" he growled, slurred and angrily, "I'm gonna find the little bitch."

"Leave her alone!" I heard my mother yell from the kitchen.

A few heavy, scattered footsteps later and I could tell he was leaving my room.

I yanked my earbuds out and shoved my cheap, outdated iPhone into my pocket. With shaking hands and shallow breaths, I slowly opened the closet doors, trying to avoid the inevitable creak. I slipped through them as soon as the opening would allow it and scurried around my room, grabbing a pair of vans and my skateboard. I flung the window open, tossed the skateboard and the shoes out, and jumped out the window after them just as I heard my dad's footsteps stomp their way back towards my room.

I put my shoes on with quick, trembling hands, grabbed my skateboard and ran.

I ran and I heard my father growl in frustration. I ran and I heard the bottle shatter as it flew out the window and hit the ground. I ran and I didn't look back.

This wasn't new to me.

I ran until I couldn't see straight and the soles of my feet began to throb.

Far enough away from the house, I tossed my skateboard to the ground and pushed myself along, past the shops and familiar faces of our little town.

Three or four blocks and I was at the other side of town- the rich side, if I may be so blunt. He wouldn't look there.

Most people in the town knew and respected each other, including my father, although he didn't do much socializing with them considering his favorite bar was the next town over.

I plopped down on the curb, using my skateboard as a footrest while I caught my breath. I looked at my phone. It was 3:35 p.m. on a Sunday.

As my pounding heart slowed to its regular soft pitter-patter I continued my routine.

I skateboarded all through the neighborhoods, whirring past big houses on freshly paved roads.

I tuned out the noise of the world around me and everything was suddenly insignificant.

The anger.

The fear.

The bruises.

The scars.

Just drown it all out, I would tell myself, forget about the pain.

I rode back and forth along Willow Lane, waiting it out.