Brainwashed

New Identity

 I didn't know where to start. The mere concept of creating a new me was so foreign to my mind. I stared down at my shaky hands, cleared of the blood that had stained them, through the hospital blanket, afraid of leaving yet terrified of staying. I looked up to the blinking white clock on the ceiling that read 2:43 am. If I were to leave, this would be the time to do it.

 After contemplating for a few more minutes, I decided that the cons of staying far outweighed the pros. I knew the hospital I was at, Gregory Hospital, because it was the closest one to our house. Thoughts raced through my mind as I searched for anything left that was mine. After coming up short, I realized that the police had probably taken my belongings as evidence because I was apparently a criminal. The thought of it made me sick. 

 I was too young to go to juvie, with murderous children! My brain wouldn't stop coming up with ideas. If I went to juvie, then I wouldn't finish school or get into any colleges, then get some underpaying job after twelve years of prison. Without money or education, no guy would ever want to be with me, so I would die alone with no money or kids. At this thought, I had no doubt in my mind that I needed to leave. I knew my parents would worry, especially Mom, but I didn't want to burden them. 

 I left the hospital quickly after that. The guards had long left by that time, so no one was there to stop me. I wanted to go home one last time, although I knew it would be a big risk. My house was only a few blocks away, so it didn't take me long to get there. A few homeless people eyed me on the way there, with my hospital gown still on, but after realizing I didn't have money they continued to mull around the streets and alleys. 'I can't end up like that,' I thought to myself. 

 My house seemed too normal for the events that had led up to that moment. I got the house key from under the fake rock where it had always been for as long as I could remember. The house seemed eerily quiet as I tiptoed to my room. Math homework that would never be completed was splayed out on my desk. I felt strangely nostalgic as I sifted through my clothes. Never again would I see my room, or walk the hallway. It seemed like a dream, and I yearned to wake up.

 Finally, I had finished gathering clothing and other necessities that I would need for the trip ahead. It was easier to call it a trip, as if I was convincing myself that I would be back to feed the koi fish, to stay up all night watching YouTube videos, or to simply see my parents. My parents. I felt so conflicted, yet I knew I had to leave. 

 I passed my old school on the way out of town. There were so many things I didn't count on losing, that I forgot that they would be gone. Our town wasn't necessarily large, but it wasn't a place where everyone knew their neighbors. 

 It was a place easy to get lost in.