an extended memior about running away - gone
Uploaded by samikinz12 on May 02, 2013
In the biting wind I shiver against the cold. My thin pajamas blow in the breeze. My intense sobbing had calmed down to occasional cries and sniffles. I wander along the edge of a tall brick wall closing in the current neighborhood I was passing through until I find a slim opening at the bottom. I double check my surroundings then slip through to the other side. The bottom of the wall scratched my chest causing irritation. I hardly noticed since the pain I was in mentally was far greater than any possible agony caused to my physical being.
On the other side were train tracks crossing a bridge. As I cross the bridge I began to wonder what if the train comes. I should run across just in case. The wind picks up making it hard to run. At the end of the bridge I tripped and fell onto the rocks surrounding the tracks and roll down as rushing wind screamed in my ear. I make it across but while rolling down the rocky hill I got cut and was now bleeding. At first I didn’t notice but as I continued walking I felt the cool burn of the wind dancing through my wound. Maybe if I just found somewhere to rest, I thought, but no. I can’t risk getting caught, so I kept walking.
The bleeding eventually stops and the cold numbs my pain. My tears are frozen to my cheeks. My hands seem useless, even when I feel for something; I cannot tell what it is I have in my hands. The coldness is easier to adjust to, as time goes by the body disregards the temperature and somehow overrides the psyche to believe that it’s comfortable. The darkness has not subsided but the temperature is somewhat tolerable even though it’s below freezing. I glance down at my feet. My shoes are covered in dense mud making every step a burden on my legs. My weight seems to be multiplying by the second but I continue walking anyway. I want to get as far away as possible but don’t recognize where I am. I’ve walked at least nine to ten miles.
I start to feel lightheaded and my vision blurs. Memories come rushing through my head. “Don’t you dare!” warned my mother as I held her clothes above the same trashcan she previously threw mine into....