Essays On Running Away

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Running Away From Home

May 2, 2010

Oh man, I really can't stand it anymore. Something feels wrong. I have that sharp taste on my tongue. The feeling I had minutes before everything fell apart. The feeling my heart gets when it knows, even when I don't, that soon it would be racing at the speed of light--breaking and trying to run, but always still attached to its merciless owner, me. It's the feeling I always act upon that made him call me paranoid. My instincts suddenly get sharp and every single thing drives me crazy. So, by now, it's only natural that I know what's going to happen.

I've cut open a huge hole in my head and every time something hurts, I shove it all in there. It's accumulating. I don't even have to look there to know. One day, who knows when, I will snap. And I wonder what I will take down with me this time. I suppose if you wanted to look, you could try. If you looked deep down and dug hard into that hole, pushed away all the gooey stuff, you would find it. Beyond the sharp words, the never shed tears, and bottles of anger, you'll find it. The first thing that I threw into the hole, the first broken piece that I never wanted to see again. But then again, if you knew what it was, then you would know all my secrets. So I guess I won't tell you.

I guess I do strange things. No, I am strange. I wish that I could go back into time. I wouldn't go back to change things and press rewind. I would go back to bring back the old me and have her stand in front of who I am now. I never thought I would end up like this. I would very much like to have the old me slap myself, hurt myself and yell at who I am now. Maybe then, I will start feeling some regret.

Remembering it makes me recoil. Not in a why did I do that feeling. But it's almost embarrassing to think about. But then once I get caught in the current of my emotions, I feel like it's alright again. That’s how it all started--I gave in to it and it's never let me go. So now, I just sit here and wait. I wait for the familiar sounds I hear every day. I wait for them to start. I sit perfectly still, you could never tell, and just wait. Not a single muscle on my face shows a hint of the feelings inside. But I'm not raging inside. I'm perfectly calm, waiting for myself to explode. And once I do, that’s the easy job. I'll just take out that mental broom and sweep everything into that whole again. The hard part is waiting for the explosion. As I wait for my little volcano, I sweep and grab everything that I will need. What do I need? I pause for just one second, and I lose it all, What I am doing? The familiar panic rises up in me and I forget for a second. Exhilaration just leaves behind despair and confusion.

I sit down hard and look at the overflowing bag at my feet. Inside of me, I grab my lungs and force them to keep on pumping. My heart is being my copycat. It wants to run away from me, just as I am trying to run away from life. The foolishness of me in the past five minutes makes me blush, even though no one else is in the room. Suddenly I see. Only for a second, but I close my eyes to indulge. With a sigh, I feel myself let go. As I finally persuade my heart to stay, I persuade myself to stay. It stops, but I don't move an inch. I grab it all and shove it back in the closet, everything, my clothes, the money, my broken heart, and the rampage that will never come. I close my door and lie back on the bed as I give up again on running away from home.

Hi, can you help me look through this piece? Thanks so much!

Running away

David was fed up. The last bit of injustice was just too much for anyone to take.
How could his mother let his sister leave her room messy and yet shout at him for not putting away his toys?
After circling around his room for the third time, David made up his mind. He had to run away. Only then could his mother realise how mean she was to him. Carefully so as not to upset his toys, he grabbed the handkerchief that his grandmother gave him long ago and tied it around his head. Then, quickly he fashioned a small backpack and put his favourite Baby Blue book in together with his stuffed bear. Threw on his jacket, quietly, he slipped out of his room and tiptoed into the kitchen.

In the kitchen, agilely David climbed up onto the counter and opened the cupboards, looking for something he could take away. Once he found his favourite peanut butter crackers, he got down and found his way to the refrigerator, where he fished for a few apples. Feeling prepared, he picked up his backpack and gingerly walked towards the front door. A whole new world opened up in front of him as the door opened.

David turned back on the sidewalk and proudly walked his steps of freedom. Every now and then, he would turn back to see if Claudia was following him, and his heart would leap with joy to see that behind him were all strangers. He walked for a few minutes, and realised that his stomach was growling, so carefully he sat down on a plight of stairs and got an apple. Crunching the apple, David sat back to enjoy the jovial world around him. A wand of sunlight gently fell across his face, warming him. The adults on the streets were scurrying past him. A sense of satisfaction ran through David's mind; he smiled as he knew that he had made the right choice. This was peace. This was freedom.

David came back to his senses when he realised he had eaten the entire apple. Sighing slightly, David packed his belongings and continued his journey, turning left again.

This continued for a couple of hours, until the sun turned a dull glow in the overcast sky. Finally David managed to find a cosy place to camp for the night. He sat down on the soft grass under a big tree. This place reminded David a lot of his old house, where he would go out and play football with Claudia every afternoon. Heaving a sigh, David pulled out his peanut butter crackers and read his Baby Blue for a while.

Suddenly, a knock on a door nearby startled David awake. His Baby Blue had slipped off his hands onto his lap. It took him a while to get his bearings. The tree was dancing their awkward waltz, blowing heavy wind, making David quiver. It was getting really dark, and he had no idea where he was. His heart was pounding wildly. What if the owner of the house was going to drive him away? What if the house's owner had called the police to arrest him? David dared not speak. He closed his eyes and curled his legs into a ball, trying to be invisible.

A second later, the door creaked open.
A second later, he heard footsteps.
A second later, his eyes were blinded by the torchlight. Blood beat within his temples. Fear gripped him entirely.

A familiar, reassuring voice echoed in his ear, "Son, are you ready to go home?"
David turned back. Too afraid to say anything, he nodded his head slightly, his eyes tearing up. David's dad took him into his protective arms, grabbed his things on the ground and handed David his stuffed bear, which he hugged with the fiercely with the intensity of a frightened four-year-old kid.

"Alright kiddo, let's go inside." David's dad whispered into his ears as they crossed their backyard and stepped in their cosy house.

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