Taking Off | Teen Ink

Taking Off

November 20, 2014
By basicbooknerd, Highland, Arkansas
More by this author
basicbooknerd, Highland, Arkansas
0 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Favorite Quote:
Not dead, can't quit - Kyle Manard


Author's note:

 
Preferences
§
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
0
-
=
Backspace
 
Tab
q
w
e
r
t
y
u
i
o
p
[
]
 
Return
 
 
capslock
a
s
d
f
g
h
j
k
l
;
'
\
 
shift
`
z
x
c
v
b
n
m
,
.
/
shift
 
 
English
 
 
alt
alt
 
 
Preferences

“God, you are such an asshole!” I yell, slamming the door. I get to my truck and start driving, tears threatening my vision. I can’t believe I fell for his little act again, I think as I pass a green light. This is the third time I have gone back to him. What did I even see in him? He has always treated me like total crap and yet I always crawl back to him.
The first time, when we were in tenth grade, was awesome. He was my first real boyfriend. I was totally in love, but he wasn’t. I should’ve stopped then but no, I walked back to him a second time, in eleventh grade. I endured the mental abuse of trying to get his attention, keeping his eyes on me. That time I broke it off. That lasted a record of two years, and then three months ago I found us back together again. A vicious cycle. Well now it’s broken, I think as I turn off the road. I reach into the back seat and grab a beer. Just a couple of sips. Just enough to give me a buzz and then I’ll drive to T’s.

I walk sluggishly up to Tracee’s door and knock. I look up at her when she opens the door.
“God, Liz are you ok?” she asks looking me over. She sees the black eye and grabs my arms, I wince. She stops, pulls my sleeves up, gasping at the deep cuts there. That is when she notices the broken beer bottle in my hand. I look at her crying, and then everything goes black as I feel myself falling.



The pulsing pain in my head wakes me up. I cringe at the bright lights, I look around disoriented.
“Welcome to the land of the living.” says Tracee lightly.
“What happened?” I croak, sitting up.
“Easy now,” she cautions, helping me up, “you have been out for more than twenty-four hours.”
“Wait, what?”

“I was hoping you could tell me. You showed up at my door early yesterday morning with a black eye, cuts, and a broken beer bottle in your hand, and you were crying. Alan again?”
The pain of it hits me like a kick to the ribs. I bring my hands to my face and start crying.
“Shhhhh,” Tracee whispers, pulling me into a hug, “Now I know this isn’t the first time he has hit you. What happened?”
“We had an argument, I started screaming at him. His hand was so fast. I left and was driving here. I stopped for a beer. That is all I remember.” I tell her quietly.
“Well from the looks of it you had more than one.”
“Yeah.” I mutter

“Come on, I have some food in the kitchen.” she says getting up.

“I don’t think I can eat right now.”

“Well you are going to.” she calls from the kitchen, “Go clean up your face and then have some toast at least.”

I get up and slowly make my way to her bathroom. I close the door and turn to look at myself in the mirror. My dark brown hair is everywhere and my left eye is puffed up and bluish black. I gingerly splash some water on my face and run my hands through my hair, smoothing it down. The cuts on my arm are big and deep. It’s a wonder I didn’t go to the hospital. I turn off the light and walk out. I walk into the kitchen just in time for some toast to pop up in the toaster.

“Have you called anyone?” I ask taking a piece and being buttering it.

“Just Tristan.” she answers flipping some eggs on a skillet, “Because we had a date yesterday, but I canceled.”

“You shouldn’t have canceled.” I tell her feeling guilty.

“Well what could I do?!” she asks her voice rising, “My best friend was in my living room passed out, with a black eye and cuts on her arm!”

“I’m sorry, alright!” I yell turning away.

“I just didn’t know what to do.” she whispers lightly, “You had me panicked.”

“I’m sorry.” I say coming up behind her and give her a hug, “You know I don’t want to do that.”

“You are my best friend, of course I am going to worry.” she responds, returning the hug. “What are you going to do now?”

“I don’t know.” I tell her honestly, “I have some money saved up, I think I’m going to take my car and just go.”

“You know I’ll be here if you need anything, right?”

“Yes, I know. I think I just need to get my bearings for a little while.” I say, getting up.

“OK. Text me every once in a while so I know you are alive.”

“I will. Thanks again, I love you best friend.”

“I love you best friend.”





I walk out of her house and make my way to my truck. I look in a see a total mess. Better clean it before I get too far on the road I think getting in. I start it up and turn on the radio and hear Demi Lavato’s Heart Attack coming through the speakers. I turn it up, singing along to one of the songs that helped me survive eleventh grade. Where do I want to go first? Just drive a little voice in my head tells me. Ok then. I turn left, toward Thayer, Missouri, and start driving.

I drive for about four or five hours, turning at random places. I see a gas station ahead and decide to stop. I turn in and pull my car up to a pump. “Pre-pay Only” reads a sign on it. I walk inside and go to the restroom. I look like a mess. I pull my hair back into a low ponytail, pull out what little makeup I have and lightly make my eye look less black and blue. I take my button-up off and tie it around my waist. I walk out; grab a Gatorade and a snicker.

“This all for you?” asks the clerk at the counter.

“This and put thirty on pump two, please.” I tell her, grab my stuff and walk out, listening to the little jingle of the bells on the door. I slowly make my way over to my care and start pumping in gas. I open my snickers and take a bite. Hmm, I think, heaven in a bar.

“Hey, sexy.” yells a guy in a dark green jeep, from the pump next to me, “What are you doing tonight?”

I put the hose back, get back into my truck and roll the window down. I pull slowly around and yell back “Not you!” and leave the station. I get back onto the highway. I see a sign that says “McCurtain, Oklahoma, next right”. I turn and think I better start looking for a motel. I drive until it’s past eight; I pass some small farm towns and come into a bigger city. I pull into a small motel called The Red Roof Inn. I get out of my truck, and walk into the lobby.
“Hi I’d like a room please.” I ask the man at the counter.
“How many nights?” he responds after typing some stuff into the computer. I look at my shoes thinking. That is when I realize I only had one change clothes, so I better go shopping.
“Three, please.” I answer handing him a crumpled hundred dollar bill.
“Are you going to be any trouble?” he questions, looking me up and down.
“No, I promise.” I mutter shifting my feet, “I am just passing through.”
“Alright, here you go.” He says handing me a key, “No smoking in any of the rooms and checkout is at three.”
“Thanks.” I tell him walking away.
I go back to my truck, grab my phone charger, some spare clothes I always keep in my ride and head to my room. Lucky number 13. I walk into my room and take my shoes off and turn on the T.V. I pull off my clothes and get into the shower. The almost too hot water feels amazing over my dirty skin. The heat of the water stings my cut arms, bringing me back into reality. I start crying again. Life is so stupid. I pull myself together and get out of the shower. Sloppily putting on my underwear, I get under the covers and fall asleep to dull sound a Geico commercial in the background.
I wake up and look at the clock 9:30, drag myself out of the bed, pull on some clothes and walk to the mirror. I gently touch my eye, it is less puffy and the color has gone down. I pull a comb through my hair and put it up in a messy bun. My stomach growls, reminding me all I had to eat yesterday was a piece of toast and snickers. I pull on my boots, grab my phone off the charger, grab a room key and go to truck. I need a map. I pull out of the parking lot and start looking for a McDonalds or something. I see a Wendy’s. Definitely a no. Sonic, perfect. I drive in and sit a second figuring out my order. I roll down my window and smash the button, still half way thinking.
“Hi, welcome to Sonic how can I help you?” asks a nasally voice over the intercom.
“Yes, can I get a number 2 with a Route 44 sweet tea, please.” I reply.
“Would you like any sauce with that?”
“No, thank you.”
“That will be $6.89.” finishes the voice.
I sit back waiting on my order and check my phone. I have five texts from random people. I throw it in the ashtray and turn on my radio. P!nk comes through the speakers loud and clear. I start bobbing my head along. A small teenage girl comes to my window.

“Hi, I have a number 2 with a Route 44 sweet tea.” she says with a small, shy voice.

“Yeah, thanks.” I tell her reaching for the bag.

She gasps when she sees my arms. Looking at me with wide eyes, she hands my drink. “That’ll b-be $6.89.” she whispers, barely audible. I hand her a ten and tell her to keep the change. She rushes off looking flustered.

I start munching on my toasted ham sandwich, my stomach thanking me. I pull out a map and look for the nearest Wal-Mart. Finishing up my sandwich; I sip on my sweet tea and back up, go around and find a shortcut to the store.
Driving on a short winding road, I notice that there aren’t a lot of people out and about like someone would expect on a Monday in June. I turn into a Wal-Mart parking lot, get out of my truck and walk slowly to the door. A little girl with her mother comes out. The girl points at my arms and turns to her mom “Look at her boo-boos.” The mom glances my way and pulls the girl closer to her, telling her not to stare and then starts walking faster. I shrug it off, continue into the store and walk to the clothes department.
“Is there anything I can help you with?” asks a store clerk, seeing me looking through the racks.
“No, thanks though.” I answer, smiling politely. I grab a couple of t-shirts in my size and put them in my buggy. Next up: jeans. Walking over to the pants, I throw a few cute pairs in and then grab some socks. While walking past some art stuff, I notice a guy watching me. Now that I think about it, he has been following me since I walked into the store.
“Do you have a problem?” I challenge walking over to him.
“What are you doing here?” he asks me gruffly.
“Who are you and why are you following me?” I say turning to get a better look at him. He is tall and skinny. His clothes are normal but he has an air about him that says he is important.
“I am Officer Jenkins,” he explains, obviously annoyed, “I am making sure you aren’t going to cause any trouble.”
“Well I am just passing through.” I tell him, “I’m leaving in about three days.”
“Just make sure you leave this town as you arrived.” He says bluntly, walking off.
I turn and go to the checkout line. Looking through the rack of gum, I hear The Piano Man come over the intercom and start humming along.
“Will that be all for you?” asks the clerk. He is tall and kinda cute. Wait no, no guys Elizabeth! I think to myself.
I smile and say no.
“It comes to $60.87.”
I hand him a fifty and a twenty. He starts to hand me the change.
“Keep it.” I tell him and get out of there. This place is starting to weird me out. As I walk to my truck I feel my phone vibrate in my back pocket.
“Hey just checking up on you”. It is from my mom. God, I should have told her something, I think guiltily.
I text her back ”Yeah just fine. Taking a road trip. Be back in a couple of weeks.”
I walk to my truck and throw my bags into the floorboard. I back out of my spot almost hitting someone. They honk and flip me off. I just blow it off, slowly creep back into my spot and wait for them to pass. Getting on to the highway, I just drive around for a while and get my bearings. I stop for lunch, get Japanese takeout and take it to a park just outside of town. It is a quiet park, small and quaint. I plop down by the Hugo River and start eating. Man, I think, I could totally just live here. When I finish eating I just lay back and enjoy the sun coming down on my face.

The author's comments:

I am going to be continuing the story. This is just the first couple of pages.

I’m lying there almost asleep and suddenly there is something blocking my sun.
“You look comfy.” says a low, husky voice. I look up to see a guy, around my age, standing over me.
“I was doing just fine until you blocked my sun.” I reply sitting up on my elbows.
“Well sorry, I saw a girl lying in the grass; I was making sure you weren’t a damsel in distress.” He explains, chuckling lightly, his shaggy hair swaying.
“I’m a damsel, I’m in distress. I can handle this.”
“Hmmm. Nice Hercules reference.” He points out sitting down next to me.
“Did I invite you to sit down?” I ask tartly.
“No, but this is America, so we have freedoms.” He replies smoothly.
“Yes, but sometimes those rights are revoked because the person abuses them.” I retort.
“Ahh, good point, but do I look like a person who would abuse my rights?” he asks never missing a beat.
“Who are you again?”
“Hey, I asked you a question first, so you answer and then I’ll answer.”
“Fine, no you really don’t but I have been wrong before. So what is it?” I ask getting impatient.
“My name is Kai.” The guy, Kai, responds, “What is yours?”
“Elizabeth, just call me Lizzy.” I reply.
“OK Elizabeth-Just-Call-Me-Lizzy, how are you today?”
“Haha, very funny.” I tell him with a blank expression.
“Yes, yes it was.” He says chuckling at his own joke; he has a nice laugh, deep throated. UGH NO ELIZABETH!
“So, where ya from?” He asks.
“Northern Arkansas.” I reply, keeping it simple, wanting this conversation to end.
“Long way from home. What are you running from?”
“Excuse me?” I ask turning to him.
“You are a long way from home; you have cuts on your arms and a black eye. You are obviously running from something, or someone. Now who or what is it? If you don’t mind me intruding.” He says, reading me like a book.
“Yes I mind.” I get up, gather my stuff and start quickly walking away. I can feel him running after me.
“I’m sorry.” He tells me grabbing my arm, “I can be a little pushy.”
Turning toward him, I duck my head to keep him from seeing the tears in my eyes. “It’s ok.” I mumble incoherently.
He grabs me and pulls me into a hug. I don’t resist. “Hey, now, don’t cry. Everything is going to be fine” He whispers in my ear.
I pull away, wiping my eyes. “I’m sorry I usually don’t cry in front of complete strangers. You just read me so easily and I have worked a long time to get to where no one can read my emotions. The only person who can really read me is my best friend.”
“You look like you could use someone to talk to. Why don’t we go back to my place and you can crash and hang for a while?”
“How do I know you aren’t a psycho killer?” I ask him.
“I guess you will just have to find out.” He tells me.
“OK.” We walk back to the parking lot and go to our cars. He is parked right beside me in a ’67 black Chevy Impala.
“Nice car.” I comment looking in the window; it looks like it has the original leather seats.
“Thank you.” He says, “I got it in honor of Supernatural ending. Grab your stuff you cvan ride with me.”
“You watched Supernatural?” I ask getting the stuff I bought and throwing it into his back seat.
“All thirteen seasons. I started out late but I quickly caught up.” He tells me starting the engine.
“Same as me.” I reply.
“Yeah, I cried both times that Dean died. And when Bobby died? I was a faucet.” He says laughing lightly.
“You laugh a lot.” I tell him looking over at him. His black hair is shining in the afternoon light.
“I do, don’t i? I learned a few years ago that you need to laugh when you have the chance because there will be times in life when laughing doesn’t seem possible.” He tells me, trying to hide a sad look.
“That is a good philosophy.” I reply, “I know that that is true. There have been a lot of times in my life that I haven’t been able to even smile.”
“Tell me about your life. I mean if you want to that is.” He says turning down a dead end road.
Where to begin?
“Well, let’s see.” I start, “I was born and raised in a Christian household. Church every Wednesday and Sunday. We had strict rules pertaining to how people dress and act. Until I graduated I was not allowed to cut my hair, to wear pants, or even put on makeup to play.” I stop and think for a minute, “So you can imagine life. When you are a little kid it really isn’t that bad, but when you get older you can see the weird looks and hear the comments. I was totally engrossed in my religion until I started high school. It was the first time in three years I had gone to public school.” I stop as we pull into the driveway of a small house. Getting out, I start to grab my stuff but Kai stops me.
“Now what kind of host would I be if I let you carry your stuff in? Here.” He tosses me the key and gets my bags, “The handle is locked.”
I walk up to the door and unlock it; I walk into a retro living room. The walls and furniture looks like it came out of a 1950’s movie. I pull my boots off, not wanting to mess up the white shag carpet.
“Follow me.” Kai says going down the hall. He stops at what looks like the entrance to the attic. He pulls the string lightly and moves out of the way and the ladder comes down gently. “Ladies first.” He tells me bowing.
“A true gentleman I see.” I reply, laughing lightly and going up the ladder. The first thing I notice is the pictures along the back wall. There are colored ones, black and white ones. Some are people and then there are places. I see a few that look like the park I was at.
“These are incredible.” I tell him as he climbs up the ladder.
“Thank you.” He says putting my bags down, “It’s a hobby of mine.”
“I left my camera at home when I left.” I say a little sad that I didn’t remember it.
“Here sit,” He tells me motioning to a pair of hammock chairs hanging from the ceiling, “continue your story. I think you were saying about your first time at high school.”
I sit down and bring my legs up to my chest, “Well going somewhere, where you don’t know anyone is hard enough. Imagine doing that in a skirt and hair reaching the floor. It was hard but then I met some of the best people I know.” I smile remembering Tracee and Shauna, “Anyway fast forward to October of my Sophomore year. I fell hard for this guy who was a year above me. He was not the best looking guy in the world but he was sweet and awkward and a total rebel. I wasn’t aloud to date yet so I hid him from my parents for almost four months. I got my first boyfriend and my first kiss with him.”
“Wait a minute.” He says putting his hand up to stop me, “You had your first kiss at like fifteen?”
“Yup.”
“Ok continue.”
“Well my mom found out about us and she was horrified that he was three years older than me. So she made us break it off. I stayed single for a while and then dated a few other people. But he was always there in the back of my mind. I still loved him. Fast forward again to my Junior year. I ask him out again and we date for like three weeks and it doesn’t go well. So this time I break it off. Fast forward again to about three months ago. I crawled back to him. He started hitting me…” I trail off and breathe for a moment.
“Hey, you don’t have to tell me.” Kai says looking at me with concern.
“No I need to say this. A few days ago I got tired of him and I started yelling at him. His hand hit my face before I had time to think. I left and got drunk I guess, I don’t remember much. I did this to my arms.” I raise my sleeves showing him the cuts that are there.
“Holy crap.” He whispers with wide eyes.
“Anyway I left and ended up here.” I tell him finishing up.
“I thought it would be bad. But not like that.” He says shaking his head.



Similar books


JOIN THE DISCUSSION

This book has 0 comments.