Chapter One:


It was thrilling, every one of my problems disappeared, when I climbed my way out of our bedroom window. I couldn’t take it anymore, JR was always right this time she had been more than right, she was dead on. I did need to grow up.

I’m fourteen years old, sure my life isn’t glamorous with the apartment we live in but that wasn’t the problem. Every week the only thing I have to look forward to, is school and doing laundry just to catch the glimpse of an outside world. Pathetic.

So that is what drove me to the plan, the most perfectly crafted plan I could think of. Running away. Obviously I didn’t think out this whole plan. Considering I am hanging twenty feet from our concrete apartment parking lot. Which I am terribly scared of falling face forward on.

It was cold and about midnight. With half my wardrobe in my Jansport, and Alyssa’s guitar on my back, and not to mention my thick glasses nearly falling off, I was scared as hell to be jumping.

But I had to, if I ever wanted anything amazing to happen to my life. I threw the fluffiest pillow I had on to the dark grounds. I let go. Before I knew I was standing on the pillow feeling my legs vibrate.

I had done it. I looked back at my glowing window. I left mom and dad a note, they need to worry, and after all I would be back in less than a month. I finally shivered as I walked thought the parking lot exit.

But before I could pursue my adventure, I quickly crossed the street. Away from my home, my family, and my jail cell.



Snip. Snip. Comb. I sat there for nearly two hours. Listening to the elderly ladies gentle and shallow breathing. I had begged her to let me in and give me a haircut, she finally caved in when I handed her a hundred dollar bill from my two thousand dollar budget, which I saved up avidly since I was twelve.

When she finished, she whirled me around. It was exactly what I ever hoped to look like. I asked for more layers and front sided bangs. But I had asked for her to keep the length of it too. I also had her dye the tips dark blue.

My glasses didn’t fit in. I hated it, letting everyone look at me through a piece of plastic with two pieces of glass. So I whirled them off into the nearest garbage bin totally aware of the elderly ladies curious glances from her chair. Then I whipped out my contacts. No one but my family knew I owned contacts. They had thought it was inappropriate to go anywhere but church with contacts on.

“ Thank you.” I said taking my wallet out again. “ No. No. No need. You might need this though.” She disappeared through the beaded curtain that probably separated the salon from their supplies. Her Filipino accent reminded me of mom’s. I sighed deeply. The old lady came trudging out, with a black purse. She handed it to me with a crinkly-eyed smile as I opened it. I looked at the bag and the lady in amazement. It was filled to the brim with very new and expensive looking make up.

I tried to hand the bag, back to her but she refused and said that the salon had too much already. I stashed it and then began to thank her profusely. Then I proceeded to ask for a favor.

The elderly woman’s waving hand disappeared altogether with her car. I was left alone at the LAX airport. I entered with baited breath.

It was pristine, large, and white. I glanced around the people who were there. They were either on the phone arguing their miserable lives off. Or talking avidly about the beautiful trips they were going to take.

I felt for once, like an individual. I wasn’t part of a family grouping my friends weren’t there. I was finally growing up.

I looked up at the clock. It was four thirty which meant it was four hours since I ran away, which meant they would find me missing in exactly one hour.

I walked up to the nearest open ticket booth. She was terribly pretty and if I wasn’t a different looking person four hours ago, I would’ve tried everything to look as good as her. But the again I would’ve.

By the time she asked for my destination I had made up my mind where to go.

I looked at the clock as the tickets printed, thirty minutes, before my flight, before everyone I cared about realized I was gone.