A small breeze flew over town, lifting up loose strands of hay and carrying them across the field. I watched the hay float past and the clouds grow darker from my perch on my bedroom window. It had been a very tiring day, and I was hoping we would have dinner as a family. Ma had been in her room all day, again. She had been doing this for the past month, and it worried me. A couple of months ago she had a procedure done, to cure her migraines, but ever since then she’s been strange. Too quiet, almost. She only speaks when spoken to and tries to avoid being around people, something that's entirely out of character for her. And now she’s in her room, again. This is especially concerning since there’s one thing I’m sure of, and it’s that she likes to be prepared, ready for when my Pa comes home, but lately she has chosen to remain in her room all night, only coming down once my father and I were out of the room. I hadn’t talked to her in days, which isn’t that strange since we haven’t been talking much, but still I missed her. I was hoping my Pa would be in a good mood; if he was then maybe Ma would come out of her room. Pa had been working late at the oil rig for the past couple of days, and he hadn’t been home in a while. I felt almost uneasy about seeing him again since how unpleasant I had felt during our last interaction. I had walked in on him, he was half asleep on the couch with a beer in his hand, and he had gotten angry at me for invading his privacy. I was accustomed to him drinking, but lately he had begun to worry me, two beers had become four.  

An hour passed by as the sky grew darker. My thoughts began to drift, where is he? I leaned my head back against the wall. I decided to amuse myself by watching the clock tick by, minute by minute. The grandfather clock’s repetition was soothing, I had come to appreciate stability and I tried to notice it whenever it was around, so I loved that old grandfather clock. 

My room was my favorite in the house, with its light pink wallpaper gradually chipping off. Its walls were coated in a thin layer of dust, and the floorboards groaned with age when I walked across the room, but despite its flaws I was still grateful that I got to call it mine. It’s nice to have something of my own, I thought as I stood up and walked across the room to my record player. I put on a vinyl that Ma had bought for me at a garage sale. 

I love music, it has always made me feel connected to the rest of the world, and I clung to it back then, it was my only connection to the outside world. Music, for me, was like looking into a television and seeing a glimpse of the world outside that small town. Everett was so distant, so separated from the rest of the world. Time was ubiquitous there, the old buildings on Main Street and the Church on Marigold could have been made in the early 1940’s or the late 1800’s, I could never tell. 

 I walked across my room and laid down on my bed as the music played. A sense of longing filled me. Sometimes I couldn’t help but wonder what more was out there. I never talk about it, though, and looking back now there were so many things I left unsaid, so many fears that should have been discussed. I wish I had spoken about what was on my mind, before my fears took control and my reality began to shift. The truth is that I wasn’t content to stay there, but I wasn’t fully aware of that yet. I thought that maybe I could find a way to be satisfied, settle down, have a few kids, and die there. Die here, in the town I had been born in. There was something almost comforting, romantic in a sense, about growing up and dying in the same place. I knew I could easily end it where it all started; die in Louisville, like my parents would and their parents before. I could stay, stay here in this town without ever seeing a glimpse of life beyond my world of wooden fences and creaking floorboards, I would think quietly, as if someone would hear my thoughts. Still, back then a part of me wondered if I could be happy here, truly happy, living in the same town with the same people all my life. Never knowing anything new, anything different. These thoughts scared me too. As “comforting” as the dependable town and the dull, predictable life that came with it would be, I was still scared. What if I never see more? What if there’s nothing more out there? Would it stop if I left or would my fear only grow? And what about my parents. . .they would never approve. But why should I try to please them? They aren’t happy, so why am I so scared to leave the life they have? But then again I wonder. . . My thoughts were cut off by the sound of a door opening, Pa’s home, I put up the vinyl and headed quietly downstairs. I knew how Pa got temperamental when he got off of work, and I didn’t want to startle him by making a lot of noise coming downstairs.

“Pa,” I said, attempting to smile, “you’re home early,” I said. 

He grunted in response. He set his worn leather bag down, then he stopped and looked around, there was sweat on his forehead and his eyes darted around the room. 

“Where’s your Ma?” he said, his voice was low and raspy, almost as if he had been crying. 

“In her room,” I said, stepping back softly. It had quickly become very clear to me that he was in a peculiar mood. My father has always had a quick temper, and even then, before I saw the full extent of his anger, I knew it was better to leave before it was too late.

I went into the kitchen to start on dinner. The floorboards creaked underneath his feet as he walked towards his room. He knocked on my mother’s door, lightly at first, then harder. He began banging the door, the sound of his flesh hitting the hard wood made an awful sound, I sank to the floor and covered my ears. A couple of minutes later I felt something grab my hair, it was Pa. He forced my head up so I would look at him, his breath reeked of cheap beer and his eyes were swollen and red.

“Lizzie,” he said, “Lizzie you need to go, go in your room and don’t come out until I tell you to.” He was looking at me with tears in his eyes. I had never seen him so close to crying. 

“Now,” he said, his voice so earnest and full of sorrow that for a second I felt bad for him. I looked up at his eyes, he wasn’t lying, or faking, in that moment, he was truly afraid, and truly sorry. I decided to listen, I ran upstairs and closed my door. I laid on my bed and fell into a deep sleep.

About an hour later the sound of breaking glass woke me up. Is something wrong? Is mom okay? I decided to make sure, I cracked open my door and sat on the top step of the stairs, attempting to listen to the conversation happening below me. 

There was a couple seconds of silence, followed by slam of a door and the sound of weeping. Ma, I thought. I rushed downstairs to check on her. She was kneeling on the kitchen floor, crying. Below her was a broken plate and food was scattered across the floor. 

“Ma, what’s wrong? What happened?” I said, kneeling next to her.

She didn’t answer, just looked up at me and showed me the shards of glass that were stuck in her hands. I helped her pull them out, her breathing was troubled and her eyes were watery.

“Ma, you have to tell me what happened, it’s okay. I won’t tell him what I know,” I pleaded. Ma set down the glass she was holding and looked at me.

“Lizzie, Pa, he’s not who you thought he was….” she said. Her voice trailed off as the front door creaked open, and Pa walked in. 

“You,” he said to me as he stormed towards us. 

I got in front of my mom, “Leave her alone.”

He laughed, “I’m not going to do anything to her, but you…” 

My pulse quickened, I stood up, facing him. 

“You disobeyed me. I told you to stay in your room, I begged you to listen, but you just didn’t do it,” he said, his face red.

“I just wanted to make sure Ma was okay—I heard something break and didn’t know if you had—” I was interrupted by a sharp pain in the side of my cheek. He had hit me, slapped me across my cheek. I was shocked, I backed away from him, my hand covering the scarlet red of my face. 

“You hit me, you actually hit me, you’ve always threatened it but I never thought that you would…” my eyes caught sight of the thing behind him. There was a limp figure on the ground, it almost looked like. . . I stepped away from my father. 

“No, no,” I said to myself as I looked at that form on the ground. I stared at it, until I was able to recognize its face. Even covered in blood, I could recognize the face of the body that lay on the ground. It was Mary, a girl from my school. I hadn’t known her too well, she had always been very quiet, but seeing her  Her brown eyes stared back at me, her soft face looked calm, peaceful even in death. Beside her, a bloody ax, my Pa’s bloody ax, laid beside her. A strange feeling began to form inside of me, it gnawed at my insides and made its way into my throat, into my head, and my breathing became uncontrolled. Run. I have to run, I can’t stay here it’s not safe it’s not I have to go I—I have to…. My thoughts were interrupted by a strange sound, a laugh. My father was laughing. At me. At my fear. I looked at him. I looked up at the man that was supposed to be my father. His eyes were bloodshot, his breath uneven and heavy, his hair wild, even his clothes were askew, but worst of all was his mouth. His yellow teeth were arranged in a jagged row, he was smiling. Smiling, as if he took pleasure in seeing me in pain, as if he had enjoyed killing Mary and seeing the hurt that he had caused, I felt tears begin to form in my eyes as a new feeling began to form in me. I curled my fists and took a deep breath, and stood still to face him.

“You aren’t my father,” I said, holding my ground even as he came closer, “Maybe you were once, but not anymore, not now, if you were you wouldn’t have done this, you wouldn’t want to hurt people like this,” I said.

He stopped moving for a second, stopped smiling, and for a second, some sort of awareness, something almost like compassion, came back into his eyes. I met his gaze, I was crying by now, and I tried to make him stop. I wanted him to see what he was doing, and realize the damage he’s done. I took a step forward. As quickly as it had come, the light in his eyes vanished, replaced by cold orbs of light blue. His smile formed again, he was gone. I don’t know how or when it had happened, or if he had always been this way and I was too naive to see it, but I saw it now. I saw who he was, and I saw he wasn’t going to change. I looked at him, then at the door, where my Ma’s brown satchel laid. That’s strange, she never leaves her bag by the door unless she’s using it to— she was going to leave. She was about to leave when he came home, that's why her bag was by the door. But why would she leave me here? Here with him, with that thing with that—He picked up the ax that was next to Mary’s limp form, and stepped towards me. My breath became heavy and I backed away, “ No no Pa don’t, you can’t you—” 

“Yes, I can,” he stepped towards me, “I didn’t want to have to do this, I tried to warn you, but you didn’t listen, just like Mary, you couldn't keep quiet, so I’ll just do it myself. Keep you quiet.”

“No, no, no, no, someone help me—Ma!” I screamed at her. She was still kneeling on the floor, picking up the shards of glass as if nothing had happened. 

“Ma do something!” I cried, “Ma please!” 

Finally, she looked up at me. Her eyes were vacant, empty, she moved and looked like a body moving without a soul, as if her mind was missing, as if someone had taken it away from her. . . Her eyes found their way to me, and she looked at me long enough to regain a small sense of consciousness, she stared at me, then looked to the satchel at the door, then shifted her gaze back to me,

“Run,” she said. Then went back to her cleaning, as if I had never spoken to her at all. 

I took one last look at them, Ma with her sullen face, Pa with his smiling eyes, and Mary, with her limp body. I stumbled backwards, grabbed the satchel by the door, and ran. I ran faster than I ever had before, without stopping or thinking or caring. I ran past the faded fields of grain and the old barn behind the school, I ran and didn’t stop until I made it out of town. I stopped to catch my breath, I looked at the town I had grown up in, at its antiquated buildings and fields of grain, and instead of nostalgia I felt relief. I’m free, I made it out!! I cheered and ran down the road, filled with newfound hope.

I ran until my body couldn't take it anymore, my breathing was too fast and it hurt to stand, looking down I found that I was barefoot. I looked around, luckily I had made it to the outskirts of a neighboring town, Louisville. I started walking towards a house with a small red barn near the edge of town. I should keep on going, but first I need to get some shoes. I started towards the house, only to find myself yawning, it was getting late. I’ll find some shoes tomorrow. I walked towards the barn, and went up the ladder to the top level of the barn. It was covered in hay and part of the roof was gone, but still the place was perfect for me. The hole allowed soft streaks of light to filter in. Wanting to see more, I kneeled near the edge and stuck my head out of the hole, and looked at the ground beneath me.

By now the sun was almost gone, dusk was setting in and the air felt cooler. The world itself was different, it felt lighter, softer. Gone was the sinking feeling in my chest, the dread of the future. Ever since I could remember I’ve dreaded being alone, but at the same time I’ve longed for it. I wanted to be alone. I was hesitant to connect with other people, I was always worried about how they would perceive me, and how they would treat me once they saw who I was. Dread would consume me, drown me and it pushed me away from seeking connection to other people. Instead, I attempted to withdraw and hid within myself, and it worked. Sometimes, until I was left alone too long with my thoughts. You’re nothing. Why can’t you be like everyone else? Why can’t you just be normal, connect to other people? Why are you like this? This is why other people don’t like you. No one likes you. You’re worthless. My thoughts would swarm in, unfiltered. They too, would consume me, drown me and render me unable to sit with myself peacefully. I hated this. I loved solitude, even longed for it, but even alone I couldn’t escape that suffocating feeling. Pathetic. But now, now I found that, I could hear myself think. For the first time in years my mind felt clear, I could see the world around me, and appreciate it for what it is, I could see its beauty. I looked up. The sun was gone, drowned by the golden earth, and the moon had taken its place. It was a crescent moon, the soft curve casting gentle light, painting the world as a silver haze, it was nice. Comforting, I felt almost safe. I laid down on the hay, using my satchel as a pillow, and looked up at the sky until sleep came to me. 

I awoke to sunlight hitting my face, warming my body. I had spent the night in a barn, but I felt more rested than I had in weeks. The sky was a soft baby blue, with little wisps of clouds. I watched the clouds until my patch of sky was clear, then sat up. My satchel sat on the hay, still unopened. I was scared to open it, which is strange since I was so far gone that my parents wouldn’t be able to find me, they would be mad at me for going through their belongings and invading their privacy, but still the fear of being caught kept me from opening the satchel. I put it on my shoulder and climbed down the ladder. I had a mission. I needed to get those shoes, and get them before anyone else was awake. Yes, I’ll get the shoes and then keep on heading out west, away from the town, away from them, then I can—My thoughts were interrupted by someone. There was someone else here, in the barn, asleep. He was asleep in the hay below the loft, right underneath me. My pulse quickened, this wasn't supposed to happen, I was trying to get away from people, not find them. Still, something told me to stay, so I did. I took a step closer to look at him. He seemed to be my age, and he didn’t look like he lived here, judging by his torn clothes, he looked like a runaway. He had dark hair, and his face looked almost peaceful as he slept. I was relieved that he seemed to be a trespasser, I was scared of being caught. 

All of that changed when he opened his eyes. I jumped back, as if I was surprised he was real, in truth I hadn’t been completely sure, it was too strange. He seemed pretty surprised too, but the shock was quickly changed into intrigue, my shock became regret, I shouldn’t have done this, I should have just left. What if he does live here and he reports you? He could turn you in, take you back to them.. I turned away and ran. 

“Wait,” the boy said. He had grabbed my hand to stop me from leaving. I looked at him, then looked at his hand holding mine, he seemed to sense my discomfort and quickly took his hand away. I stepped back. 

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said. 

I laughed, I had broken in here and stood there staring at him, and he was apologizing to me. 

“No really, I didn’t mean anything by it I was just really cold and I needed a place to stay—-”

“Wait,” I said, realizing who he thought I was, “I don’t live here. I’m like you.”

“Oh,” he said, then he laughed. He stepped back and sat down on a pile of hay. He had a very casual, easy air about him. He must have been really scared to react the way he did. 

“Why were you so scared?” I asked.

“I know the people that live here, or at least I know one of them, and they aren’t the type to let this,” he gestured at himself, “go. Trust me, you probably shouldn’t stay here, these people are dangerous.”

I took a step closer to him. 

“Then why are you here? I’m sure there are other places you can stay at.”

At this his face got red, “I just..like this place. It's a good barn, a nice place to rest.” 

“Yea, I guess it is.”

“I’m Colton,” he said, reaching out his hand.

“Lizzie,” I replied.

I shook his hand, then quickly stepped back. I didn’t know what to do, I was supposed to be doing this alone but there was something about him that made me feel like—

“You okay?” he asked, he stood up and was walking towards me.

I was about to step back but instead stayed in place, 

“Yeah, I think I am.”

“Well then what are we waiting for?”

He walked past me towards the door, then stopped when he saw I hadn’t moved. 

“Are you coming?” 

I took a deep breath. If I did this, there was no going back. I couldn’t go back. Once I get out of the county, once I get out of the state—it will be over. I clung onto my satchel a little tighter and took a step forward. 

“Yes, I am.”  

We walked through a neighboring field until we hit a small dirt road. I hesitated, but Holden kept on walking. This is it. Once I get out of the county it's over, there’s no going back. . . 

“What’s wrong?” he said.

Holden stopped walking and came towards me.

“I’m fine, it’s just—” I hesitated.

He stepped closer. 

“I’ve never gone past Dalton county, and I feel like if I leave now I may never come back, maybe I’m making the wrong decision,” I said.

He looked up at me and I looked away, I had said too much.

Holden put his hand on my shoulder, strangely, this made me feel more grounded, my mind stopped racing and began to clear. 

I looked up at him. 

“You’re a runaway, right?” he said. 

I frowned, this wasn't what I expected him to say.

“Yes, I am,” I said. 

“Well I haven't known you for long, but you don’t seem like the type of person to leave home without a reason,” he said, “you don’t have to tell me, I’m just saying that whatever happened, it’s okay to want to leave that behind, it’s okay to leave them behind. Trust me, I understand.”

I felt as if a huge weight had lifted off of my chest, I still felt guilty, but hearing someone else say that it’s okay to leave, to hear someone else say that they understand, it gave me a feeling of security that I had never felt before. This stranger, this boy I had met no more than an hour ago, saw me, he saw me in a way that no one ever had, and he listened to me. I faced him and thought about reaching for his hand, but decided against it. 

“Thank you,” I said.

I turned to face him, and thought about reaching for his hand, but decided against it. 

“And you're right, I did have a good reason to leave.”

We started walking again, down the small tired road. By now the sun had come up, the world was waking up. I thought about what people would think of us, a boy in tattered clothes and a girl in an old white dress, walking side by side in the middle of nowhere. I laughed. 

Holden smiled, “What’s so funny?” 

“Nothing, I was just thinking about how odd we must look, especially me in this old dress,” I said. 

He looked down at my dress. I felt suddenly aware of his eyes on me, I felt embarrassed of what he must see. I was never a very pretty girl, and this dress surely didn't help. It was very long, it fell a couple inches above my ankles. It was white, but not a pure, clear white or a light cream, it was more of a dingy light brown, stained with age and who knows what else. It fit strangely too, it hung too loose on my body.

He was still looking at me. I felt my face turn red with embarrassment.

“It was my grandmother’s, Ma didn’t sew and we didn’t have the money for new clothes, so I just wore whatever clothes were passed down to me,” I said. 

“Well, we’ll have to take care of that,” he said.

“What?” 

“You need something of your own—no you deserve something of your own. We’re going to get you some new clothes,” he said. 

“But I don’t have any money” Holden gave me a look that made it very clear we would not need money, “Oh, no I couldn’t do that it’s wrong I” 

“No. Listen, Lizzie, you left because you were unhappy right? You're starting a new life, this can be a way to let go of your old one,” Holden said. 

I sighed, just two days ago I would have never even considered stealing, but now it didn’t seem all that bad. It was purposeful, and maybe getting rid of this dress would let me leave my old life behind. . . 

“Okay,” I said, “ let’s do it.”

Holden grinned at me and we looked forward. There was something there, up on the next hill, it looked like a town. I looked at Holden. We smiled at each other and ran towards the town. 

The town was called San Marcos, it was a little larger than the towns in the old county. It had large shopping centers, and several small boutiques, many of which were just beginning to open up for the day. 

We walked through the center of town, it was so different from anything I had ever seen before. There were more people, and they all were dressed differently. Some people wore long blue pants that flare out at the bottom, others wore the same blue material as shorts. They all wore their hair differently too, some women had it long and loose and others had it shorter with round face framing pieces. I wanted to be like them, they were all so different, so unique in their own ways. Individuality was a always looked down upon in Louisville, and I had always worn the same hand me down clothes and kept my hair up, but now maybe I could do what I wanted.

I turned to Holden. 

“Do you have any money? I would pay you back as soon as I found a job. I hate to ask and I don’t expect anything but I just feel bad stealing and I really want some—”

He smiled, “I don’t have much but I do have this.”

He pulled out a twenty dollar bill and handed it to me. This is the most money I’ve ever had, the only money that’s ever really been mine. 

I was so happy, so filled with ecstasy that I threw my arms around Holden. To my surprise, he hugged me back, and for a few seconds I felt safe.

He was smiling when we separated, his dark eyes looked almost green in the sun, he really had the most gorgeous eyes—I looked away before my thoughts continued to wander. 

“There’s a diner up there!” I said, looking over in the other direction, “we should go.”

“Ok, what if I order us some food while you go look around?” Holden said.

I grinned, and ran off. There was a small boutique that had caught my eye earlier, and I quickly found my way back to it. It was called Ellie’s, and that store was unlike anything I had ever seen. Everything was so bright, so clean and full of life, so unlike the dull shapeless clothes I was used to. I looked around the store, starting with the shorts. My parents had never let me wear shorts of any kind, but if they saw me wearing these shorts I think they would both pass out. A pretty older lady came up to assist me. 

“Looking for anything in particular?” she asked. 

“Not really, I’ve never done this before so I don’t really know what to look for,” I said. 

“Well you’re in good hands, I’ll show you around” she winked at me and smiled, “I’m Ellie, I own the store.”

For about thirty minutes she led me around the store showing me different articles of clothing and helping me choose a pile of clothes to try on. After trying on many, many pieces of clothing, we landed on two outfits. One was a pair of jean shorts with a light blue flowy top, and the second was a red gingham dress, it was shorter than anything I had ever worn and it was above my knees.  I decided to wear the dress, and I was about to pay for it and leave when Ellie stopped me. She sat me down and took out my hair, she curled it and let it hang loose around my face. She asked me if I wanted to learn how to apply makeup, and she showed me how to put on lipstick and mascara. When she was done she showed me my reflection in the mirror, and I almost started crying. I didn’t recognize myself, I looked so happy, so different. 

I turned to Ellie.

“Do you like it?” she asked.

“Like it? Ellie I love it!” I exclaimed.

”well then I have one more surprise for you, come over here. She led me to the back of the store and pulled out a shoe box. 

“These just came in, and they would look so good with that dress of yours, plus they are good on the road,” she winked at me. 

The shoes were a pair of beautiful brown boots, they were the prettiest shoes I had ever seen. 

“Thank you, but I coudn’t possibly afford something this nice really this is too much—-” I started. 

Ellie cut me off. 

“No, you aren’t paying for those boots. Or for anything else, you keep your money, use it when you really need it, and stay safe on the road, okay?”

I nodded and hugged Ellie.

“Thank you, for everything,” I said.

“Oh sweetie it was nothing, now you go on, there seems to be somebody waiting for you. I put on the boots quickly and said my final goodbyes, then I ran outside to meet Holden. He sitting on a bench outside the store, reading a book. He was so focused that he didn’t see me at first when I came up to him.

“Hey,” I said. 

He looked up at me, and I felt my cheeks flush. He stood up.

“Lizzie, you look, you look—-” 

“Is it that bad?” 

“No no, you look amazing, you look like yourself. You’re smiling Lizzie! You look different,—in a good way, in the best way possible.”

I blushed and smiled. He looked at me and our eyes met. He has such beautiful eyes, and he smells so good too, like wood and rain. He stepped closer to me and took my hand. I grabbed onto his arm and we started walking towards the diner. 

The diner was pretty big, with a large neon sign and a checkered floor. We went inside and sat in one of the red booths. It smelled of fast food and the table was sticky from something that had spilled, but I was still smiling. We talked for a while about what we thought of the town, and I asked him about his past. 

“So why did you leave?” I said.

The question surprised him, he stopped and thought about it.

“There isn’t just one reason, it was just—everything.”

“What do you mean “everything,”’ I asked.

“Well, my father was always around, but his mind was always somewhere else. He had a job for a little bit, working on the railroad, but then one day he just—stopped. He came home and sat his lazy butt on the couch, and just stayed there. He would just sit and drink all day,, he didn’t care that my Mom was too sick to work, he didn’t care that I had to quit school to start working, he just didn’t care about anyone but himself. So when my Mom died, a little under a year ago, I left. There was no reason to stay, I figured the old man would never change and I just had to get out of there while I still could, you know?”

“Yes, I do know,” I said as I looked down at my satchel.

Our food came, we both got burgers and fries and I got a strawberry milkshake. It was unlike anything I had ever eaten before, so rich and full of flavor. We stayed in town until late afternoon, when we walked around town and looked around stores. 

As the sun began to lower and the colors began to dim, we left town. I stood up from the bench we were sitting at and grabbed my bags from Ellie’s. I reached for my satchel, but then decided against it. I didn’t need it anymore, I was making new memories and starting a new life, and this could be my way of letting go of my past. I left it on the bench and grabbed Holdens hand, and we started walking towards the next town together. 

“Today was good, I mean really good. I havent felt, I havent felt this happy in a long time,” Holden said to me.

This surprised me, while I knew about Holden’s past I also knew some fun stories he's told me from when he was on the road, so I knew this meant something. 

“So did I,” I said. I looked up at him, “why are you smiling like that?”

“You,” he said.

And for the first time, I felt truly secure, content with my place in the world and unafraid of the people around me. For the first out there, on the road, I felt alive.