Saving skies

Chapter 1

Chapter 1:

I can’t stay here. 

They don’t care about me. They never did. I know for certain that they never will. The question now is not where, but when and how.

I will answer those: tonight and through the front door.

My bag has been packed periodically over the last month. I’ve planned everything down to the minute. Although, I probably didn’t need to, they won’t realise I’m gone until someone else tells them. They won’t realise when they wake up that I’m not up with them.

My room here has no personality. I knew when I arrived that it would never be home. So I never tried to make it home. My bed has a white doona covering it, and miss-matching pillows because no one ever bothered to buy me a matching set. In the corner is a desk, which I barely ever used. School hasn’t mattered to me for a while. The desk doesn’t have anything on it anymore, because I took away the photo.

I put the photo in my bag.

The floor of the room is a cream carpet, but a dirty, mangy colour of cream, like it hasn’t been washed for years.

Maybe it hasn’t.

Well, when I leave they will have a chance to clean it properly. Before they wait for the next orphan to come along, to be caretakers for another child.

I hate that word so much, orphan. It just makes me feel like I was dropped off at someone’s doorstep because they never loved me. It degrades who you are as a human being. It’s like I’m not human anymore because I’m an orphan. An orphan who is unloved and has no feelings.

No.

I can’t let myself think like this. I will get out of here, and away from these carers. These people think they know what’s best for me in life, but they don’t. Not even I know what’s best for me. And no one but me can decide my future.

It’s 2:58. I’m leaving at 3. I will be in a totally new city in the morning. I won’t know anyone and the thought of that is so refreshing. I can’t wait for it.

The digital clock on the floor by the bed finally clicks over to 3 am. I take a deep breath and pull the strap of my bag over my shoulder. I check over the room that was never really mine and make sure I haven’t left anything. When all is clear I walk out the bedroom door.

The wooden floorboards creak as I walk down the hallway. It’s dark but I can still see my shadow, crawling up the wall next to me. An eerie feeling fills my gut as I try to stay quiet.

God, don’t trip over now Anna.

It’s the longest minute of my life. Each footstep results in a slightly louder creak and by the time I get to the door I’m not sure if I was trying to be quiet or not.

The last thing to do is open the door.

I smell the cold air outside before I see it. The night is black, daunting. I step onto the front veranda and zip my hoodie up higher, thanking God I remembered to wear gloves.

Finally I run down the drive way and onto the footpath on the side of the street. Looking both ways to see if anyone if watching me, I run along the path and to the train station at the end of the street. Within 5 minutes, a tram arrives and I jump on, without looking back, without saying goodbye.

There are only a few passengers on the train, an old Asian man who looks like he has passed out from drinking, and is sleeping over 3 seats. There are a group of girls who have clearly been clubbing, laughing and screeching at the top of their lungs as they very loudly and proudly discuss the boys they hooked up with.

I sit close to a door, ready to jump off when I feel like it. Near me another man with a bald patch on his head comes over.

“What’s a little las like you doin’ out here so early in the mornin’” He asks, spitting in my face. I hold my breath from the stench of his and look out the window.

“Naw, come on now, don’t be shy. I’m only trynin ta help” I ignore the man’s deep husky voice and look out the window. I think he is going to leave me alone, before he puts his hand on my thigh.

“I’ll help ya if ya want darl’” He slides his hand up further. My heart rate picks up and adrenaline rushes through my veins. Turning to look at him, I take in the man’s greasy appearance.

Receding hair, dirty skin and old clothes, he smelt like sweat and alcohol.

“Back off” I say and slap his hand away from my leg. Jumping up from my seat, I push past him and jump in front of the door, just as the train pulls into another stop. I press the button impatiently, begging the door to open before anyone else can come after me and run off the tram when it does.

I don’t know where I am now. I don’t know this suburb; I’ve never seen these streets before. From the progressive incline of the amount of trees, I realise I am further out of the city then when I started. There are gum trees lining the sides of the streets, and in the distance are paddocks with animals grazing along them.

Crap, how long was I on that train for?

I look down at my phone and find it is nearly 4:30. Not only that, but I have 20% charge left on my phone. I need to find somewhere to stay.

Can 16 year olds get into a motel by themselves? I really hope so, because I don’t have a guardian to help me now.

 I run along the street and into the first sign of accommodation that I could see. The sign is falling from the pole, and only some of the lights work. From what I can see it says ‘Motel Inn/// Cheap rooms///’

Inside I find a young boy at the reception desk.

“Hi can I get a room?” I gush into his face. He stares blankly at me. “Please?” I ask.

“Do you have ID?”

“Um, this?” I hand him my learners license, he looks down at it for a minute before looking up at me again.

“You’re underage”

“But, I don’t have anywhere else to stay! Please, just one night! I’ll pay double”

“I’m sorry, I can’t. It’s illegal” He looks back at the computer he was working at just moments ago, leaving me to find somewhere else to stay. I drag my feet out of the motel and look down the street again.

Maybe I should just set up camp in one of the paddocks.

I head towards the paddocks, about 500 metres away. As I move down I hear the bass from music playing a distance away. I look towards the direction of the sound and see lights shining from the middle of another paddock. Turning around, I walk in that direction.

People are passed out everywhere. A bonfire is dying somewhere in the centre of people.

Girls are walking around topless and throwing up onto trees and shrubs. It’s the end of the night; just nobody knows how to get home.

“Can I help you, babe?” A male voice asks me and I turn my head to connect a face to the voice.

A guy stands in front of me with his hands in his pockets, a cigarette in his mouth. I can’t see his face properly, but the shape of his jaw contrasts with the red of fire in the background.

He wears a singlet top and I don’t know how because I’m freezing under my hoodie. I look him up and down before standing back to look at his face.

“Do you know anywhere I could stay?” I ask, praying he has an answer that gives me a bed.