i have plenty of ideas in my head, so why not write them down?
[general, crossovers, k-pop, anime, etc]
(discontinued)
[𝚊𝚛𝚌 𝟸, 𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚒𝚗 𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗]
Ⓒ 2018. All Rights Reserved.
(hey because i'm time crunching and traveling again with barely any wifi, here's a preview of this book i'm working on thanks sorry for missing last week's update)
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SHE FINALLY DID IT. She finally showed the consequence of my carelessness and minute mistakes and her sober rage.
It was expected though. The frequency of repeated threats of 'kicking me out' and the related had increased in the past four months. So in a way, I had prepared for this. This was expected and I knew what to do.
"Get the hell out of here!" She yelled, grabbing me by the back of my shirt collar and dragging me to the front door. She threw it open, grumbling swears that I was used to, they were almost always aimed at me.
"You ungrateful brat! I'm sick of you, go rot in the sewers you rat!" She said it low, but the hatred was loud enough. With such sheer force, she threw me out the door, leaving me to fall against the gravel of our front yard, causing my skin at the palms to break open.
To be honest, I expected her to kick me out for not doing the laundry or for not getting dinner ready on time. Coming home late was never a problem with her before.
I wasn't like the other kids at this semi-peaceful town called New Valley. This Friday night, most kids would be packed in a house in the upper end, partying and drinking away, appreciating their youthful days away from the fear of the future. I was working my shift at the Bed & Breakfast near the edge of town and it had run late into the early hours of dawn.
Throughout the summer- no, for the past four years I had worked a total of 10 jobs and many other small jobs. Every penny earned was never used, only saved for the payment of my uneventful but sure demise. I had no plans for college until recently. All I ever dreamed of for the future, was making sure my mother would be able to pay the bills after her rehab treatment- if she ever would go to rehab.
I picked myself off the ground, dusting my knees and examining the slightly bloody scabs on my palms. It wasn't that bad anyways, I would survive. I have for four years anyway.
I knew my mother would probably be lounging in the living room, expecting me to come knocking on the door begging for forgiveness. She always expects that of me. But I wasn't going to. It was Game Plan time.
I took a few rounds around the neighborhood. It was nearing 2 AM, the streets were empty with life and no one was awake. The only living thing awake was the Jamesons' cat that liked to be outdoors at night.
After seeing the same play set across the street for the third time, I snuck back into my house's backyard and into the garden shed. In a red box on the very top shelf, I kept all of my important documents. It wasn't a smart place to keep it, but it was the only place my mother wouldn't randomly search.
Right below the red box was my father's old briefcase, with my name written on duct tape stuck on the corner- Elodie Ray. It was big, black and much like the ones you'd see in movies carrying perfectly stack wads of cash. This was that, but it wasn't perfectly stacked, just arranged into denominations. It was a total of 2 million dollars, collected over the course of years, through odd jobs, multiple overtime working hours and two lottery wins that happened purely out of luck.
I had never ever thought that I would l this money for myself, but it looks like that's what it had become. It took a long time and good long talks by counselors and other adults about self-care and responsibilities for the self to understand that I wasn't important to my mother. I was basically leeching off of her for food and shelter, things that I could provide for myself. New Valley law dictates that all children are to receive full free education from the ages 5-18, so she and I never worried about that.
After getting the two boxes locked and loaded, I quietly took out the ladder and placed it right at the bottom edge of the guest bedroom's balcony, on the second floor that was beside my room. The balcony door would be unlocked and I would quietly get in and get out with my packed suitcases, and anything else that I would need.
I stood at the end of the driveway that I used to color on with chalk as a child. This was goodbye, and in a small part of my heart, I was angry that it had come to this. I almost wished that this suburban house that was home to my best and worst moments would burn to the ground, with everything inside it.
Maybe even everyone inside it.
💠💠💠
It was near 5 AM when I reached New Valley's bus station. Usually, if I had taken a cab I would've gotten there an hour after I left the house, but I had walked with three suitcases and a hiker pack. It was a very long haul- one that was cold and sad.
The bus leaving town would arrive at exactly 7:30, giving me two hours to get some breakfast. I surveyed my options, there was a fast food restaurant just across the bus station but I was most likely going to feel sick the entire ride if I ate from there. There was also a snack stand that sold sandwiches and salads. When I went to check their options, I had a very loud high pitched voice in the back of my head yelling at me to save money for a motel. So half an hour later, I was kicking a vending machine into releasing my granola bar.
I barely remember what I did for the rest of the wait. I had gone through my camera roll on my phone, feeling sad that I was suddenly leaving all of my friends behind. They were few in number but I was very close with them. Sarah, the cheerleader who constantly picked on me for not going out so much but was happy for alone time with me. And Dennise, the art chick who'd constantly ask me for advice on color palettes when I was on my shift at the diner. They were both such joys in my life for the past two years yet I had managed to keep my pathetic life hidden from them. I didn't need them to worry. I didn't want them to worry. They were too perfectly snuggled into their blissful life that adding my imperfect family problems would cause too much of a ruckus.
When the bus arrived, I had my bags loaded in and ticket checked. The driver didn't question why a 17-year-old was taking a bus out of town all by herself. But he did ask if I ate anything and all I did was wave the second granola bar I bought.
I took a seat in the middle rows, by the window, in the driver's column. The bus fare was quite high and I had questioned it when I purchased it for 50 dollars, but now I could see why. On the armrest of my seat was a USB port and an adapter. Next to it was a sticker for the WiFi password. So most definitely worth 50 bucks.
It was nearing 8 when everyone riding had settled in, a total of 9 other people excluding me, and soon after we were leaving the station. As we passed by familiar spots that I had grown accustomed to or even worked at, I felt my throat hitching. My eyes were burning until I felt tears fall. I quickly swiped them away with the sleeves of my sweater. I wasn't going to let everyone on this bus know that I was a runaway.
When we passed by my high school- the only public school in New Valley, I had to bite my lip to hide a sob. I saw kids pulling up to school for their final week of summer school. I saw teachers slowly walking up the stairs of the school ready for work. They all greeted Principal Abbington who stood like a champion at the front doors of the school, ready for the new academic year. I really was going to miss Principal Abbington, he truly was a champion.
As I watched the sun fully rise, the final bits of New Valley had passed. But by then I was asleep, saying goodbye to what was my home for 17 years, in my sleep.
