Somewhere I want to be | Teen Ink

Somewhere I want to be

October 10, 2010
By nevermore13 BRONZE, Poplar Grove, Illinois
nevermore13 BRONZE, Poplar Grove, Illinois
1 article 2 photos 0 comments

The cold, obscene words that came out of the man’s mouth were like a spears piercing through my forehead as he darted away from the problem. Him. My blue eyes hardened into crystals that would forever capture my disappointment of the ignorant rage.
The girl, my sister, rang back with more profanities. As far as I could tell the neighbors were closing their garages again and most likely covering their children’s ears.
How I longed to get out of the little town outside of Madison and go back to my safe haven. Lest we know life is not as simple as starting an engine with a smile and a ‘ready to go?’ No it was not. It was the endless torment that drove me into solitude once again so I would be able to tune out the wretched bickering.
Honestly I wanted to cry but somehow I couldn’t. This had gone on for three years now and somehow I grew immune to howls of my loving family.
“And she...” I didn’t care to listen to the rest of my newest crime. Like any youth now days I plugged in my iPod and blared music. Hayley William’s voice seemed to crawl out of the head phones singing ‘run from them, from them, with no conviction... ’ I could relate in my own way just sitting in the back of the black CTS.
Finally I was cast out of my own world by an abrupt car door slam.
“Really, have the courtesy to the poor Cadillac!” I wanted to scream.
But I wouldn’t.
I never would.
In my misguided mind I would let this slide by like always. When I was asked if I was alright I would smile and say, ‘its fine, guys.’ And give them both hugs.
Again.
This was not my home. Home is somewhere you want to be! It’s someone you want to be with. I did not want these people. I did not want the town house with the blue tattered door.
But although negativity seemed to race through my body I quickly thought up positives. Bear my fat cat would be waiting for me. Tank my chubby horse with a Hannibal lector mask, or grazing muzzle, would be there as well with my bass guitar, my field of flowers, my dog, and of course my home.
I smiled and took out my vibrant orange camera.
Home.
Somewhere I wanted to be. Somewhere I would be.
I sat in the car for an hour or two gazing drearily out the window. My thoughts unraveled as bass notes chimed in my head. The bickering would start once in awhile but it was quiet for the rest of the drive.
South Beloit.
Forty five minutes away. The sky darkened so I could see a sliver of the moon that grinned like a Cheshire cat.
The little Podunk town that was my own greeted me warmly with rows of corn and beans stretching over the community.
Left. Left. Right. Left.
The little white house light up showing the little leaf bird bath surrounded by mums and lilacs. The door opened where a little white dog scurried out and barked at a playful leisure. Trailing behind was a woman in a plaid pajama pants and a baggy T-shirt that read Special Olympics 2010. The woman smiled and walked up to the black car.
As quick as I could I grabbed my bag and ran up to her to give her a large hug.
Home.
I was finally somewhere I wanted to be. With the things I wanted to be with.



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