Running Away

I’m slowly getting use to the fact that I have a blog. Who knew I would have a blog? 

There’s most likely questions raising as to why this is titled what it is. And here is the reason: 

For more than a month now I’ve been having dreams with the same reoccurring theme: Running away. Each time I have this dream, it always starts with me hiding from my family at first and then quickly making a break for it. Each time I’m found, I run faster or I cry and run and run till I wake up out of breath and exhausted. I get away as far enough to where police are involved and where I’m running from them. 

And I know why I keep having this dream.

In July after a family member came home everything was awkward. Home didn’t feel like home. It didn’t feel like anything really.  On the first day of this member being home, fights had already been broken out. Sister was on the verge of flying back home, mom was crying- sitting on the bathroom floor with her bible, me trying to calm everyone down while simultaneously crying. It was beyond bad. After a trip to California everything cooled off for a bit. But then, it went back to the shitty mess.

 My mother had tripped on one of my nephews toys and she went falling on a bucket full of water in the kitchen. The member of the family had been staying in my room at the time. I always keep towels in my room, so I automatically went there to find some to clean the bucket mess while my sister helped the one who birthed me. The member came into the room yelling at me to get out. And guess what happened after that? Did I leave the room? Yes. But it also led to me being punched and slapped while my mother screamed. I, of course, fought back. If there is anything Carrie Fisher or Stevie Nicks ever taught me, it was to fight back for yourself.

 More dramatics happened. I got into an argument with mother, which led to her slapping me and punching me and her not believing. So I left. I left the house crying and holding onto my body which was in pain from everything. 
She didn’t believe. She didn’t want to believe me. 

I sat in the trees hiding and trying to calm down for a good while. My lovely sister who I love beyond anything tried finding me along with my mother. As I sat there, I realized. This is where I can leave everything. This is where I can leave everything behind and just go. No hold backs. No nothing. And I did.

I took a pair of the running shoes I kept outside and left. I left to the closest yet furthest town and hid and changed each day I was gone. My phone kept buzzing from my sister crying for me to come home and pictures of my nephew as a “he misses you- come back.” After a while my sister picked me up because i can’t  ever leave my sister. She aloud me to hide another day with her before we went back home. No one discussed anything. I was ignored until September, and my sister left for her own family. 

In the time I ran away. I felt free. Yes, there was fear; but I felt safe to be alone. Breathing seemed easier. The bird I keep dreaming about, I know represents the way I felt. The freedom I had, the peace that there was. 

Now that Christmas break is already approaching rather quickly-and this member coming back home, I feel the need to flee. And that’s exactly what I’ll do. Flee to Florida. Flee to where I need to be. To breathe. To be loved. To be reassured that I’m valued and can be heard.

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