Runaway Dreams

A Typical Day

I wake up and there's no noise, indicating my dad was gone. He does that all the time. 

He could be at a job interview, or, he could have left me in the middle of the night to go to the bar down the street, and he's passed out there. I never know until I get the phone call. 

I lay down in my bed, just zoning, and what better than to interrupt me, deep in thought, than my alarm clock, a minute after I wake up. 

I slowly raise from my bed, lowering my head, so I miss the 4' 9" high ceiling. I'm somewhat short, but still frequently hit my head. I pass through the beads hanging from where there used to be a door.

One night, two or three years ago, my father and I got in an over dramatic argument about my grades in school, and I countered him about how he should show a better example for me by getting a job. I ran into my room and slammed my door and locked it. I remember him screaming at me to open the door, as I lay on the other side of my bed crying. Since my father always made a big scene at the end of every argument, one day I had a door, and the next I had hanging beads replacing it.

It only takes me a few steps to reach the kitchen, or really, the mini fridge and microwave on a off balanced table. I pour myself some Life cereal. There, on the box, was a daughter with her mother. Little pictures like these hit me pretty hard still, even after so many years. My mom was everything my father wasn't.

Half way through my cereal, I'm startled by a vibration in my butt pocket.

        "Hello?" I say, mouth full of Life

        "Hey Ty it's Beck." Beck works at Cooper's, a local bar a few houses down from ours, that his father and uncle owns. 

A couple years ago, he followed my dad home in his car, to make sure he got home safe. When my father did eventually arrive home, I tried to run out the door, heading over to my friend's house as usual. He grabbed my arm and tried to tug me back through the front door, a very normal gesture that wouldn't usually progress an further. But that time, he had a little more strength than usual. I started screaming and thrashing my arms, and I guess Beck was parked close enough that he could see our disfunction. He got out of his car and ran over to us, calmly relasing my arm from my fathers grip. By then I was crying and remember digging my face into his chest as him arms held me tight in a comforting hug. The two of us put my father to bed, and I told Beck my entire back story as he drove me to Day's house.       

        "Oh hey." I say.

        "So your dad just left the bar, and he's stumbling back home. I don't know if you want to get out of there-"

        "Oh! Thank you thank you!" I say and hang up. Oops, no goodbyes this time. I down my cereal and grab my bag. I throw all last nights finished homework in it along with a packet of animal crackers and my ear buds. Already having jeans on, I slip on a clean shirt and some flip flops and run out the door. 

"Crap, I need a ride. Crap I forgot my phone! Crap here comes my dad!!" I whisper to myself.

I run inside and swipe my phone off the counter and fly out the back screen. 

        "Hey, Beck, sorry I hung up on you there." I called him back. 

        "It's cool, I get you need to get out of there." 

        "Yeah...that's the thing, I'm standing in my backyard and he's probably moments away. I don't have a ride." 

        "I was going to offer but you hung up on me." 

        "Can I still accept that lovely offer?" I say.

        "Sure, I'm running out the door."