Running past the point of comfort, past the last homes on the block, and looking to figure out the past.
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Every time a car goes by, I flinch. I can’t help it. He can’t possibly know I’m gone yet. But still.
I should be at Harvest Market right now. Checking out eggs and milk for old people. $9 an hour for my college fund
Arrived at Sonoma a little while ago. Smallest airport in the world. It's got a little cafe. Snoopy themed, lols.
There’s this family sitting at the table next to mine. Mom, dad, two girls—matching mahogany curls.
The parents are tall, red-faced. They look happy. The kind of happy that is almost selfish. Bleeding into other people’s lives..
You know when you’re a little kid, and you decide, like all children at some point, to run away?
Your dad yells at you over dinner, your mom forgets one too many times to kiss you goodnight?
And so you up and leave.
then once you get past your driveway, and the houses stop looking familiar, and strangers glance at you too long
suddenly you want nothing more than to go back in time and never leave the safety of your home in the first place?
I'd rather die than live with him one more day. After what he did. And he thought he could keep it a secret.
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