An Dearing Escape

The harsh slapping of my feet echoed against the cold pavement in the quiet of the night. The sound was muted to my ears by my painful gasps for air as I pumped my legs faster.

I relished the pain that shot up my legs and into my body as it drowned out the ache in my heart. I had tried so hard to be a good daughter, but I couldn't; not anymore.

My soul was dying! Another day, no another minute, in that house and I would lose the will to live. Year after year, I had struggled to maintain my spirits using any and everything at my disposal.

A smile from a teacher, a hug from my friends, a pat on the back from my father, even a laugh with that woman. It hadn't been enough and tonight, tonight, had been my breaking point. Two weeks to my eighteenth birthday, only a week before graduation, and I had lost the battle.

My legs burned unbearably as they ate up the ground in front of me, and I almost stumbled to the ground. I was desperate to rest my searing limbs.

My eyes roved, searching for a place to sit. Thankfully there was a bench a few feet ahead and I collapsed gracelessly onto my back.

My ragged breathing filled the empty night as I waited for my heart to slow down and my mind to start working again. As I laid there gazing up at the sky a bout of despair washed over me.

I wondered if my life was destined to be as dark and void as the night sky. Afraid of where my thoughts were heading, I shook my head and focused on my surroundings. I was surprised to find that I recognized the row of old Victorian-era houses to my right.

There was only one place I knew that had this style of houses across the road and it was the train station.

I sat up with a start. My eyes filled with amazement as I spotted the familiar tattered sign with the T symbol on it. Somehow, I had managed to run a standard thirty-minute car ride from my home to the station.

For a moment, panic surged as the gravity of what I had done became apparent; I had run away from home! Knowing my parents, they would have already started the hunt for me; but I couldn't, no I wouldn't, go back. There was no way I could live in that house another day knowing that my parents had plans to get rid of me.

What did that even mean "get rid of"…where they planning to kill me?!

Mentally shaking myself, I let go of that train of thought. I had a bigger problem to worry about at the moment. I needed to find a place to hide but where could I go; that my parents wouldn't find me? Staying in Boston was out of the question. There were too many people who knew my parents and would be all too glad to drag me back home; thinking I was just being a rebellious teen.

I was momentarily stunned by the sense of melancholy that rolled over me. It was too much! All of it was just too much! I could feel panic forming like a lump in my throat but with Herculean effort I pushed it away and focused my thoughts on how I was going to get out of Boston; no, out of Massachusetts, as quickly as possible.

Somewhere in the distance, a clock began to toll. It was 4:00a.m. In 30 minutes, the first train would be leaving the station and I needed to be on it.

I drew in a deep breath, exhaled slowly, centered myself, and began to go through my options. As quickly as I considered a place, I dismissed it. Paris, London, New York, or Washington, D.C. I didn't have a passport and the other states were too close. Slowly, I became aware of the footsteps of people making their way past me. I was running out of time. I needed to choose a destination right now! Panic began to clog my throat again when an idea popped into my head; the Amtrak.

I needed to get to South Station. From there, I would have a pick of places at my fingertips.

Decision made, I slipped my feet into the sneakers I had grabbed on my way out the door but had completely forgotten were in my hands. With a nervous tug on my braids and a brush down my rumpled clothes, I joined the growing crowd of people heading into the station.