Seventeen years of misery lurked within me. Jumping from home to home, never having a family, and living a mystery is no one’s ideal life. My twelfth foster home was the worst of all. My foster mom, Margaret, had nappy brown hair and beady eyes that killed me to even look at her. Her high pitch screams and five star slaps were the worst of it all.


Her son, Ray, however, was the apple of her eye. He got whatever he wanted and was praised for doing absolutely nothing. Ray was a high school drop out, and popped prescription drugs daily.

The trailer I was forced to live in was not a safe place to call home. I never considered it home though; I never really had a true home in my life. The shed in the backyard was filled with dirt, rats, and old things covered in cob webs. The sight of that place made me cringe.

My escape was the lake down the street. I would go there daily to swim laps and I would relax with the fish. This was the only quiet place I could ever get to; the only place I could actually think.

Seventeen years of misery was enough for me, so I jumped at the chance to leave as soon as it was offered. Around 2:30 in the morning, I opened the window, trying not to make a sound. I slowly dropped my bag to the grass, without letting it make any noise and I slowly climbed out of the window, one leg at a time. I carefully lowered myself to the ground, picked up my bag, and sprinted through the pitch black night, using only my flip phone cell phone as a light to guide me.

I fell in some pot holes and ditches, and dodged some trees as I ran through the woods. I knew my way to the bus station, but not very well. It took a few hours but I finally got there. It was nice to see some light and hear actual voices, rather than animals and strange noises in the wilderness.

“I would like to buy a ticket for the next bus going to Charlotte,” I explained exhausted.

“Sure thing. That will be $12 please.”

I took my ticket and waited anxiously for the bus to come. I sat in fear that my foster mother would come looking for me. Losing me was one of her biggest fears, but not because she cared about me, but because she wanted the government to keep sending her checks to pay for me. Those checks weren’t used to pay for me anyways, she deserved no more.

Two slow hours finally passed by and the bus arrived at the station. I was the first person on the bus, and sat far in the back. I watched as the bus drove out of my small ugly town and took a long route on the highway and through some roads I’ve never seen before.

I fell into a daze and then into a sleep, waking up at 8:00 in the morning to the reflection of the bright yellow sun in the window. As I awoke, we passed a giant blue sign with white writing that read “WELCOME TO CHARLOTTE”. That was the best sign I think I’ve ever seen. I was about to restart fresh in life, far from my past.