My thoughts are overtaking me. I can no longer hear what she has to say. All I can hear from my thoughts is,
“Run away! Run away!”
Those thoughts scare me. I don’t really want to run away. Life isn’t all that bad after all. But still, my thoughts continue to tell me to get out of there as soon and as quickly as possible. I have to escape. I have to. I have no other choice.
She continues to talk. I turn and rummage around in my closet, pretending to listen and pretending to be occupied with something.
“You didn’t hear a word I just said, did you?” She demands.
Nope.
“Yeah, I understand.” I say quickly trying to cover up.
“You are so hard headed! You’re not sorry at all!” She continues.
Why should I be? Not like it’s my problem. Hey, I remember this hat, it would look really good on me-
“Some day this is all going to come back on you and then you’ll be in trouble! You’re going to have a terrible marriage some day and I hope your kids give you just as much grief as you give me!”
I bet her mom told her that once.
I come out of the closet. I really don’t want to hear anymore and I’m tired of blocking most of her out. I have to get out of here. The words she’s saying are starting to make sense and I don’t want that to happen. I have to stay proud and unbending.
“You’ve never even tried to get along with your sister! If you make the first move, she’ll change as well!”
“So we don’t get along. The end.” I say.
Maybe she’ll leave now.
She looks at me sadly and leaves my room. I shut the door behind her and then grap my tennis shoes. I’m sufficating in here. I have to get out. I have to escape this endless pit filled with lectures and rules. I need to be free.
I tie my shoes, throw on a sweatshirt and put on the hat I found in my closet. I kneel on my bed and open the curtains to my window just a bit. After opening my window, I slip out onto the fire escape. Since it’s an old house, the fire escape is just a short ladder starting just below my window and leading to the roof. It rained tonight, so I’m careful with my footing on the wet metal ladder. I climb up several rungs and swing my legs onto our flat roof. I’m free.
One advantage of living in a huge city with lots of hills is that at night you can see the whole city all lit up. It’s really beautiful. Just seeing it like that tears down all my pride and I begin to cry. I find a dry spot on the cement roof and sit down. I’m alone up here. This place that’s completly surrounded by the lights of a huge, bustling city is dark and quiet. From here I can think and watch with no one looking back. No one can see me. It’s my place. my escape. My escape to nowhere. I never really left, but everything seems so far away. It’s all behind me and I don’t want to go back.
“God, do you really think I’m that bad? I don’t try to be,” I ask quietly.
“Sometimes I get so mad that I want to do everything I can to end the life of the person causing me pain. I guess that’s bad. But that hasn’t happened in a really long time so you can’t be punishing me for that, can you?
“What did I do to deserve all this cr*p in my life? Dad thinks I’m the devil or something. He always targets me whenever there’s a problem. Like I’m the one who’s always to blame. I’m not. I really try to help in the house, but then there’s times when I just can’t take it anymore and, well, I guess I blow up.
“I don’t know how to make any of this better. I don’t know what to do. I’m scared. I’m turning into someone else. I don’t know myself anymore. I used to always be happy. Now I’m always depressed. What’s happening to me? I’ve escaped to nowhere. I can’t keep on running. Are you even listening? I hate myself! If I had the courage I would end my life so that I could escape to somewhere. Whether it be heaven or h*ll, I really don’t care right now. I hate my life. Why did you create it if you knew that I was going to be miserable? Please, help me!”
I hear something and look towards the ladder. Someone is calling my name. Great. Just the thing I need. They call again and their voice is closer. Someone is climbing the ladder. How did they find me?
“Yes,” I respond to the second calling.
“Are you up here?” My mom’s head appears over the wall.
“Yes,” I reluctantly say. I do not want to talk to her. I’m angry that she found me here. She found my place. my secret place. my escape.
“I’ve been looking for you. I couldn’t find you.” She’s stern.
I don’t give her eye contact. I watch the dark cloudy sky instead. I wish there were stars.
“Do you come up here a lot?” She asks.
“No,” I lie. The last thing I want is for her to tell me that I can’t come up here again. I need this place. it’s the only place I can sort out all the chaos this life throws at me. “How did you get up here?”
“I climbed through your window.”
“Oh,”
“You were really disrespectful downstairs when I was talking to you. What’s happened to you?”
I don’t know, that’s why I came up here.
I shrug.
She sighs.
“I can’t hang on this ladder forever. I’m going down.”
“K,” I say.
She climbs back down.
Nothing is private. She probably even reads my journal. I know that she and Dad read all my emails too. I need privacy. So I came here. The only place I knew wasn’t watched. And they still found me. But now that they know this is my place, maybe they’ll stay away. I still don’t fogive them for knowing where I escape to. My escape to nowhere.