The Runaways

Chapter Nineteen

My hands run through my hair, taming the curls that stray from the others as I put my school books away. The home schooling curriculum is so different than public school.

"Hey, Ripton. You have mail," the black-haired girl named Sam tells me. She holds out the letter to me.

"Oh, uh, thank you," I answer quietly.

I haven't gotten mail since I've been living here. I mean, it is November twentieth, my seventeenth birthday, but no one remembers.

I don't mind.

I take the prized envelope to my room. My name is printed neatly on the front, but there's no return address. Studying the outside thoroughly, I see that the post marks say Alabama and Georgia. My heart almost stops.

A letter from Alabama.

The only person I can think that it's from is Luke.

As I rip open the off-white envelope, I see a sheet of notebook paper inside. Carefully, I pull it out and begin to read.

" Skyler,

I know you probably don't want to hear from me, but please don't stop reading. This is the one letter I get to send this month. I've been in rehab in this prison ever since I left you at the hospital.

I want to apologize. For hurting you. For not being the father you need. For all the years I treated you like you were nothing. You deserve a better father, Skyler. I'm so sorry I disappointed you. And I know simple apologies won't fix anything that I've done, but I needed to let you know. You are an amazing girl and so special. More than I could've ever asked for in a daughter. I'm proud of you.

I hope you have an amazing seventeenth birthday. I love you.

Dad "

I set the letter down next to me as I sat on my bed.

I feel horrible. I'm disappointed that the letter wasn't from Luke. But I should feel special. My dad took the time to write me a letter, telling me how sorry he is and that he loves me. I've forgiven him long before and I've loved him even when he wasn't himself. I don't know how to write a letter back, given that there wasn't a return address, but I know he left it out on purpose. For some reason, though, I can't shake the feeling of being so alone, even after reading the letter over and over again.

Grabbing my boots, I decide to walk it off in the park. I let my hair down from its ponytail and grab my one and only dark red scarf. November weather in Georgia today is cold and dark. Probably should've put on a thicker sweater. Walking down the sidewalk, I dodge rain puddles as I make my way to the local park. It's vacated, as usual.

Dark grey clouds cover the sky as it begins to drizzle. Pulling my scarf up to cover my hair, I make my way down the path, kicking loose pebbles along with me. I stop momentarily to let a small family of ducks pass by, then start again at my slow pace. A long walk in the park, thinking. Don't get me wrong, I'm not pitying myself. I just wish I could see Luke. Just one more time.

Yes, it's been two years since I last saw or talked him.

Yes, he's a legal adult by now.

Yes, he's probably moved on with his life and barely remembers me.

But yes, I still love him.

I keep my gaze fastened to the ground in front of me, watching the raindrops interrupt the small pools water on the concrete. Stopping short, I stare down into my reflection.

I don't look seventeen.. I don't feel seventeen years old. I still feel like that little girl curled up beside her bed, waiting for someone to come help her unlock her door. Wrapping my arms tighter around myself, I glance up and continue on my walk. You need to learn to let things go, Skyler.

Things change.

People change.

You need to adjust to those changes.

My shoes kick a small pine cone a few feet forward. I meet it and kick it again.

"Come on, we don't want to be late!" I hear from across the street. I slow my walking pace until I stop completely.

A father and mother walk out of their house, covering their heads from the rain. They turn back to face the house before getting in the car, though. Calling out something, the man motions to someone in the doorway. The rain blurs my vision, but I can see that it's a little girl.

She looks about eight years old.

Actually, she kind of looks like me.

She has dark, but straight hair, and light eyes. The three of them laugh as she shuts the front door behind her and dashes to the car, dodging the big puddle at the base of the brick stairs.

I stand still, smiling, as I watch them drive away. I wish I could've done that. At least one time. Just one. Go out to a movie or dinner with my mom and dad. Have a family night where we play games in the living room. Anything.

I'm suddenly not feeling well. I see a park bench a few feet ahead, so I have a seat on it, pulling my knees to my chest. My head is spinning, and my stomach twists and turns.

What is wrong with me? I'm fine one second, and an emotional time bomb the next. But no one would think that because I'm alone. All the time. If I just happened to stop breathing right now, the world would stay the same.

No one would notice.

No one would care.

I'm barely a person anymore. I feel like I don't even have a personality. I haven't laughed in weeks, though I smile constantly. It makes the girls I live with less likely to start another rumor about my back-story.

I miss Luke. So much. He was the only person I've known that treated me like I was more than just a mistake. I don't even know anymore.

He's not here.

That's that.

I am alone.

That's that.

My life is a war. Every day is a battle. My mind is the wreck left behind.

Finally giving in, I sit in the park, in the pouring rain, crying my heart out.