I didn’t get very far when I felt a strong pull on my hair and the back of my shirt. The sudden pain stops me, and I fear what is going to happen next. I huddle closely to the corner of my kitchen, enjoying the coolness of its surface against my burning makeup stained cheeks. Only seconds later, my mother is screaming at me to go to my room, and telling me I’m disrespectful. I stand there for a moment, vexed by everything going on. “Go now or I’m going to pummel you!” she hollers. I refuse to move, even though I know that I should, to avoid another harsh threshing. I feel her fists upon my back, pounding on me. She picks me up and throws me into the wall again, and i figure it's going to leave a contusion. I’m surprised the clamor hasn’t woke the neighbors yet. I quickly turn around and push past her, and into my room slamming the door behind me. Realizing my quivering legs could not longer support my weight, I slide onto the floor and look at my surroundings through horribly blurred vision. Not even the nearly blinding yellow walls could brighten my mood this time.
My whole body is shaking in time with my sobs as I try to stand. I pulled myself up using my dresser as and aid, and look at myself in the mirror. My eyes are red and shiny from the fresh tears, and my makeup is sliding down my cheeks. My expression was very grave, and I felt worthless, a feeling that seemed interminable. I had a sudden craving for pain. I longed for the precise, sharp slice of a razorblade, and to see myself hemorrhage until there was nothing left. Absent-mindedly, I walked into my bathroom and retrieve a razor, inspecting it, stroking the blade with my fingertips. It sends shivers down my vertebrae. “I can’t do this.” I say between sobs, and put the razor back in its place. I know that once I put that razor to my skin, I’m hurting more than just myself, and i would abhor myself for it.
I run back to my room and pick up my cell phone. With shaking hands, I dial the number that has become so familiar to me, my one escape. I listen eagerly as it rings once, twice, three times… it feels like forever when I finally hear that comforting, “Hello.” on the other line. My breathing must have been uneven, because I didn’t have to say a word before he questioned, “Are you okay? Want me to come over?” he starts to sound panicky. I sob a few more times before he says, “It’s okay Bridgette, just try to calm down. I’ll be over soon.” and I hear the receiver click. I sat, thinking to myself how altruistic he was, when I hear the tap at my window. I stand up quickly despite my shaking legs, and hastily opened the window so Connor could come through furtively.He was barely all the way in before he caught me in his embrace, crushing my head to his chest. He pulls away, taking my hand and leads me to my bed so we can sit and talk. I feel his one of his strong arms around me, while the other is cupping my chin. He leans closer to me and whispers, "It's going to be okay Bridgette, i promise. If i could only keep one promise to you for the rest of our lives, it would be that everything will always be okay. Whenever you're not okay, i'll be here to make sure you’re happy, forever." he smiles and kisses me lightly, making my heart skip a beat. Taking his thumb, he wipes the tears from my cheeks and tells me he loves me. "We don't have to live like this Bridgette; we can run away so far that no one will know where to find us."
"What if we get caught?" I ask with a questioning countenance on my face.
"We won't get caught. Just pack what you need, and we can get in my car and drive until we're out of gas." he smiles.
"But what about you, don't you need anything?"
"I've got all I need right here." he says, grafting his arms to me. I gather only the necessary things, and put it all in my bag. Connor goes out first, and I follow, slowly crawling into his benign, outstretched arms, and he carries me to his car. We quietly back out and start driving.
Once we get to the highway, my phone rings, making me jump. I look at the screen and gasp. "It’s my mom." i say, starting to panic.
"Just stay calm, answer it and see what she says." Connor replies.
I flip it open and manage a quiet, "Hello?"
"WHERE ARE YOU? WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING? WHO ARE YOU WITH?" my mom screamed so loud Connor could hear it. He looks at me sympathetically, and nods once to indicate I should tell her. "I'm with Connor, mom. We're leaving, so I don't have to cause you problems anymore." I said, trying to maintain the placid tone in my voice.
"You can't do that! You're only 16!" she screams again.
"Mom, you can't stop me now. I don't want to continue living like this.”
"How could you do this to me? what about your sister, your dad, your friends?" she says, not screaming anymore.
"I have it all figured out mom. I don't need anyone else though. Don't worry about me, i'll be fine."
“Alright. But if you ever want to come back, I’m here.”
"Okay mom. Bye." i say, the surprise obvious in my voice. Even though my mom was nice to offer, I did not plan on going back to that life. I look at Connor and start to smile. "I'm free, we're free." I say, beginning to lament joyfully. Connor smiles, and reaches for my hand across the seat. I was the happiest I’ve ever been, and. I was ready to start a new life, our new life.
