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Before I even opened the door, I knew. The sounds of mom’s sobs were already too much to bear.
Dad was gone.
Someone started shaking my shoulder.
“Ma’am.” A strange voice called.
The shaking continued, growing a little stronger.
“Ma’am. Wake up.” What? Was I sleeping? Was it all just a bad dream? Rays of morning sunshine slipped past my heavy lids. I slowly peeled them open.
An officer with hovered over me.
The nightmare had only just begun.
Chapter 3
Meghan
I left the safety of the park bench in the heat of the morning sky.
Where the hell do I go next?
With no destination in mind, I started walking. I’d lived outside of that town my whole life. The roads had a familiarity to them. All I had to do was put one foot in front of the other. So, I did.
My dry contacts scratched the surface of each eye, distracting me from diving too far into deep thought. On one hand, I was happy I hadn’t left my contacts at my mother’s. I just wished I had remembered to grab the saline solution.
The optometrist must have thought I was crazy asking for gray contacts. It was the last major change I made.
I fumbled around with the tiny orb, trying to place it perfectly on the tip of my finger. It took a few attempts, but I finally got them in eyes.
“It feels like there’s something in my eye,” I said.
He looked at me, a bit puzzled. “That’s because there is. You’ll get used to them.”
I blinked a few times before catching sight of myself in the mirror. The color of my world, not just my eyes, had changed. The bright shades of green and blue were gone, replaced by hues of black and gray. It was the ultimate step away from the person I couldn’t be anymore.
Left foot.
Right foot.
I had to keep walking.
What did other teenagers do when they ran away from home?
They probably had a plan before they took off. I bet some of them even had their bags packed for months, waiting for the perfect opportunity. Maybe they planned to go to a friend’s house, a shelter, or Alaska. Did they live out in the wild, using the land to survive?
Forests surrounded the road. I could build a tree house…
Chase and I had built one together when we were kids. Dad kept old lumber in the garage. He said as long as we were careful, we could borrow his hammer and saw.
It was sturdy enough for him and me to lay side by side and watch the sunset every Friday evening.
“Can we run through the plays again?” He used to ask.
“Of course.” I sighed and listened. I knew the plays like the back of my hand. He didn’t want me to talk, just listen, unless he made a mistake. “Nope. You go left on the Jetson play.”
“Got it. What would I do without you?” His words haunted me.
