A Change in Scenery

So. This was it. This was my moment! I leaned in towards him, closing my eyes just like they did in the books...

Thwack. A thud sounded in the background of my mind, but I ignored it, determined not to let it ruin the moment. Thwack. I cracked an eye open, only to find myself facing the ceiling rather than my dream's apparition of Chris Evans. Thwack. There it was again, coming from the window.

I turned on the lamp beside me, squinting my eyes so I wouldn't be blinded by the sudden intrusion of light. Stumbling to the window, I rubbed the crust out of my sleepy eyes, praying for patience so that I wouldn't kill whoever was disturbing my precious sleep.

"Dylan??" I hissed, "What the hell are you doing outside my house at 2:00 AM?!"

"I have a surprise." His grin radiated through the inky night to meet my own. Without any further questions I slid my window open, climbing through without any thoughts to my current clothing. I breathed in the humid, sticky air as I dropped to the grassy ground in front of Dylan.

"Lillian." His smile shone with the luminance of the stars above us as I grabbed his hand in mine.

"Where are we going?" I asked breathlessly.

*********************************************************************

He took me to the 50-foot cliffs. A blanket lay there with a lantern and a box of Cap'n Crunch, my favorite cereal.

"Dyl, you know that we have school tomorrow, right?" I asked, looking into his bright eyes.

"That's what coffee is for," he smirked. His dark hair was messy, unruly, leading me to believe he had just rolled out of bed himself. I reached out and ran my hand through it; I couldn't help myself.

"Why did you bring me here?" I questioned. I leaned my head onto his shoulder as we gazed out over the forest in front of us, quiet and peaceful.

"I needed a change of scenery. I'm tired of the same old, same old, you know?"

"I know," I replied.

Silence.

"Do you want to leave with me?"

My head shot up, and I looked at Dylan with uncertainty painted in my eyes.

"Leave? Why?"

"Why not?" he challenged, "We're both sick of this town, these people, our families..."

I returned my head to his shoulder, silent and thoughtful.

Running away. Can it really be considered that if you're not leaving anything behind? If you have nothing to keep you grounded, to keep you connected to the place that you should call home? And what if the whole reason you're still there is because you're afraid of what you might find? That you're terrified of venturing into the unknown, something other than comfortable, mundane, familiarity? Is that really running away?

As people we tend to shy away from new places and experiences. We refuse to stray from our comfort zones, because what if something goes wrong? What if it's not what we thought?

But what if for once, we rebelled against human nature? What then?

I turn to face Dylan.

"When do we leave?"