I stare at my feet, wrapped in my favorite grey socks. There’s a tiny hole where my little pinkie toe winks at me. I move and it dances. Sighing, I continue glaring holes into my feet. I am boring, my socks being a testament to that. There is absolutely nothing interesting about me and I don’t think there ever will be. In fact, it’s like I’m not even here at all. It’s like I don’t….like I don’t…

Trying to get away from this thought spiral, I look around my room. My gray walls, brown dresser, tan desk, black bed (which is giving me a knob in my back at the moment) and brown bookshelf are hugging the wall as if they’re scared of taking up space; all exploding with my own flare of drabness. No hint of color dares to tread here.

Realizing that this isn’t helping either, I look out my window. While being on the first floor doesn’t give me a great view, it has the color green (a happy one), which lifts my spirits a little. Standing up I go to my window, looking out at the miniscule patch of lawn that we call a “backyard”. The only thing adorning our sad little patch of grass is a broken garden gnome. I stare at the miniature man, who lost his right eye due to a particularly angry throw; courtesy of my mom’s last boyfriend when he caught her sleeping with the mailman. I can’t even begin to count the number of men who’ve crossed our threshold. A sudden noise blares from the room adjoining mine, shaking me out of my thoughts.

Now dance, man, dance, he never had a chance. And no one even knew it was really only you.

Gritting my teeth I try to ignore the “music” my brother listens to. God, I don’t even know where he gets that cat-wailing. Suppressing the urge to yell profanities at him, I keep looking out the window, wondering what it’s like to live in a nice neighborhood; unicorns flocking in the streets, rainbows adorning the sky and not a sad family in sight. I snort and shake my head, looking down at my feet again.

How far could they walk before they’d give out? How far could they run? Would it be enough to take me away from here? I wiggle my toes, testing them out, feeling the strength in them. My head goes up, looking out the window again. Maybe I could…. It’d be so easy… just a small jump outside. A three foot drop at most. And I’d be gone; leaving this house, this life, this family and these torturous thoughts of nonexistence. Nonexistence. Simply thinking of the word scares me. If I were anywhere else it would leave me alone; just another word to look up in the dictionary. I continue staring at the outside world. My hand rests on the window’s ledge, itching to propel myself forward.

“Hey Jon, Dinner!” my brother bangs my door open with a scowl on his face. I look at him-really look at him; from his ragged trousers that we bought at Goodwill to his bitten off finger nails. I can’t see his face underneath his bangs. He is everything I don’t want to become; compliant to his fate, never questioning it. The trashed neighborhood that we live in, the absent father and the drugged out mother; he accepts it all. I’m disgusted and scared in his presence. I hate him for what he is and am terrified that I’ll become him if I stay. He glares at me for a few moments, turns around and stomps down the hall. I stare after him. Back at the window. Back at him. Down at my feet. Outside the window.
I close my eyes and take a step.