Abnormality

fugio

fugio - I flee

I swiftly walked to the door, desperate to reach it before my parents could see me out of bed. I wasn’t meant to be going anywhere due to the incredibly unfair grounding I had received from the “Nazi Police” – I hadn’t even been caught with drugs or alcohol! Unlike half the school. However, all of this hassle through sneaking around, pretending to snore in bed; and what for?

At times, I’m really not sure. But as I open the door, welcoming blissfully cool air into the muggy, I know what I’m doing. I step outside and embrace the bitterly cold air – thank goodness I’m wearing a warm jumper – before shutting the door silently.

I creep over to the tangled mess of a bush where I’ve hidden my bicycle. I push my hands into the knotted branches, searching for it. Eventually I brush my hand on some freezing metal. I grab a hold of it and pull it into view. I can make out part of its silver colour in the moonlight but I don’t bother with admiring my bike. It’s hard enough to get away as it is – I don’t need to be a sitting target. I have to get away.

I cycle away, silently yet smoothly stealing across the roads. I act like a ghost, stalking the streets with stealth. No-one notices me. At least, I hope not. As I reach the gate to the park, I catch a trace of grass on the wind. I love the scent of grass as it attempts to get free of the looming exhaust fumes from cars passing alongside the park.

I open the rusty gate in order to get inside. It squeaks, alerting everyone in the vicinity to my presence. It doesn’t matter to me now. I shut the gate, setting off another squeal of agony, and cycle along the path. I follow the meandering route. The further I go inside the park, more woodland springs up and surrounds me.

I slow down as I approach the densest part of woodland. In the middle of this copse is a lake. This is where I want to go. I coast down the narrow path and near to a pile of coppery-toned leaves. I place my bike inside the pile, hoping it will camouflage my bike of the opposite colour. After a bit of thought, I take off my shoes and hide them in the bank of the leaves.

I walk barefoot to the edge of the lake. The crunch of the leaves is comforting. It makes me feel as if I’m not the only one here. The leaves are interlaced with the smooth blades of grass, which tickle my feet.

Finally, I reach the cool water. I sigh in blessed relief at the soothing water. I mentally slap myself in order to keep myself on track. I need to do this.

I close my eyes and raise my hands into the air. I clench my hands into fists and lift my chin into the air, in defiance.

I am defying everything. If you see anything like I'm doing - the water floating in the air with my control - then you would think that you were in some alternate reality.

However, my main thought is: This never gets old.