The Runaway

I ran the day of a wedding. .  My legs seemed to make the decision while my mind stayed idle, unable to tell them otherwise.  My perfectly French manicured fingers found the dozens of bobby pins that held my curled up-do in place, pulling them out, one by one.  I felt the curls fall onto my bare back, tickling me slightly.  I made swift motions forward, my eyes focused ahead.  I had never felt so free.

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                  The darkness surrounds me as I drive down the ghostly highway road, the only light coming from my black Jeep Wrangler.  The backseat is filled with all of the possessions I could grab that I thought meant something to me, while the rest sit in rejection in my bedroom back home.  I turn the volume dial on my stereo, which plays an upbeat country pop song.  I nod my head to the beat, pulling myself into the music so that I won’t have the urge to turn around and forget that I ever wanted to leave.

                  It is just after midnight, and I know I won’t be able to drive through the night.  Exhausted from the wedding, I wish I ‘d gotten coffee before I left.  I rub my eyes then groan because I realize that I probably sent mascara all over my eyelids.  

                  I had been driving for two hours, and I would be at the state border in just over an hour.  There would be plenty of decent hotels to stay at there, so I decide that would be where I stop for the night. 

                  For not having a set destination, I’m not freaking out.  In contrast, I am surprisingly calm, singing along to the songs that I know and having a clear mind.  Worrying would be for tomorrow.

                  The hour passes quickly and before I know it, I’m closing in on North Carolina.  As I go past the “Welcome to North Carolina” sign, I honk my horn once.  There isn’t a car in sight, but I want the world to hear my happiness as I exit my home state and drive through this unknown territory on my own.  I get off at the next exit and find a Super 8 Motel, knowing that would be cheap and somewhat clean.

                  Thankful that I had been saving money for years, I knew that I could stay at a hotel for a while if I had to.  I give my credit card to the desk clerk and she gives me a room key.  I wheel my suitcase down the hall to room 1C, close the door behind me, and after brushing my teeth and putting on an oversized Duke shirt, I slide into bed.  I close my eyes and immediately, my mind begs me to start freaking out over my decision.  I try my best to fight it, but I begin thinking about what led me to this point.  What set me so over the edge that I wanted to run away and never look back.

                  “Can you get me my lipstick, Etsy?  It’s in my purse over there.” Amelia asks, pointing on the counter across the room.  My sister is standing in front of a full-length mirror, obviously enjoying the look that is reflecting back at her.  Wearing a two thousand dollar wedding gown, she looks like a princess, especially because the bottom half is tutu material, with the top half having a beautiful laced pattern.  Her blond hair is curled to perfection, escalading well past her shoulders and pulled back slightly with a flower pin.  Her makeup has been painted on using the correct tones and her confidence is shining through her wide smile and straight posture.  Amelia looks beautiful, as always.

                  I walkover and find the lipstick tube in her pink Coach handbag, handing it to her.  She puts a fresh layer on her full lips, puckering them together once she is finished.  Amelia’s caramel eyes meet my ocean blue pair, and both of us smile.