terrifying, beautiful, wonderful wanderlust.

Panic attacks

I don't know what to do.

I panic.

I throw my backpack behind the couch and it lands with a loud bang.

I pray he wouldn't hear it but that is the last thing on my mind. I hurry to my room trying to stay silent on our carpeted floor and shut the door as slowly and quietly as possible. (Not that easy with a door that sounds like a parrot!)

I look at the clock

8:42 pm.

I lay back down on my bed and hold my breath. Hoping he didn't hear or see me come into my room. He can't know I left my room after curfew. Not after last time.

I had bruises and marks all over my body for a month after last time.

I hear foot steps in the hallway and they are getting louder with every passing second. They sound angry. I close my eyes and pray to god that he didn't see me. Or find my backpack.

Why is he even here?!?

I can now feel my heart beating so hard I think it might burst. I try my best to steady my breathing as I prepare for the worst.

I close my eyes and I am suddenly transported and taken over by a sea of black. For a split second I forget where I am and what is happening. But I am soon ripped out of my daydream and thrown back into reality by the sound of my bedroom door opening.

It is silent.

The kind of silence that gives you goose bumps and makes your skin crawl.

Not the good kind of silence.

It's uncomfortable.

I feel him standing in the doorway. Lurking.

I suddenly remember I have my shoes on.

Oh shit

It is dark enough that I hope he can't see. That is all I can do at this moment. Hope. The time he is standing in the doorway is only a few minutes if that, but it seemed like a eternity. Finally, He turns and exits the room slightly slamming the door or his way out. I let out a heavy breath and I can breath easy again. Knowing he is not standing over me.

I open one eye cautiously to make sure he still isn't there. And strain my ears trying to listen to what's going on outside my door, daring not to move. I hear him rummaging through cupboards and empty boxes falling on the floor. Keys jingle and I once again hear foot steps drawing near, then drifting away again. The front door closes and keys are frustratingly shoved into the lock.

It is silent once more.

But it's a lighter silence than last time.

I let out a sigh of relief as I sit up from my bed. I sit there for a few minutes trying to collect myself and keeping my hyperventilating to a minimum. Once I muster up enough courage to open my door, I walk over to the couch and look behind it.

Oh thank god

I let out a sigh of relief as I grab my backpack up from behind the couch. Shaking now more than ever, it's a good time to eat a granola bar I think. A thought flashes through my mind. I grab my phone and open the back of it.

My dad had installed a tracker chip in the back of my phone about a year ago after the first time I tried to "run away". How in the hell he had enough money to do that, I have not a clue. Probably was a "inside job" as he likes to call them. If my plan is going to succeed, I need to get rid of this.

But I can smash it. Then he will know immediately that I am trying to get away. I walk back to my room and place it under my pillow as I smirk to myself. Feeling quite smart. This way he won't know I'm gone until he gets home from work, late tonight. Tomorrow morning even if I'm lucky.

This is it.

I am standing by the door with my hand on the doorknob. I am mentally preparing myself...

This is taking a while...

I whisper to myself... Okay I think I'm going crazy... I take a deep breath and open the door.

This is it.