Maeya Brookes

Chapter 2 - Freedom

After the cooler was full and zipped up, I put it in my room. Then I headed to the hall closet and dug up a medium-sized black duffel bag and the book-bag I used for school last year. I went into my room and grabbed a bunch of warm clothes and normal clothes in case it wasn’t too cold, socks, flip-flops, gloves, my hairbrush, and a few hygienic things from the bathroom. I almost took my towel, but it was still wet so I got a fresh one from underneath my sink. Duffel bag filled; I zipped it and set it aside with the cooler.

Then I went back out to the kitchen and into our supply cabinet. My father’s snoring, since it meant I still had time to get everything together, comforted me. I got out some bug spray, a flashlight and batteries, a whistle (you never know), matches, and our first aid kit; including the bandage roll. I put all that in my backpack along with some books for reading and writing, and some pens. I also got the money I made from paychecks at my job out of its envelope and counted it. In six months, I made $300. It’s not that the shoe-store paid me poorly; they actually paid me pretty well! I only had that little because my father only gave me a fourth of what I made each week from my paycheck, and I had to buy my own food and clothes. But he never knew I got tips! From my sock drawer, I pulled seven five-dollar bills. $335 went into a secret pocket in my backpack and I zipped it up. It went beside the cooler and duffel bag.

            “Now I have money in case I run out of something. What else do I need?” I wondered aloud, tapping my chin with my index finger, “Oh! I need a sleeping bag!” I went back to the hall closet and after a minute of looking managed to find my old sleeping bag from when I went camping with both of my parents a long time ago. I took it out. I was just turning away when I noticed something silver behind where the sleeping bag was. I put it down and reached into the closet, pulling out… “There’s a thermal blanket! This’ll come in handy! It’s really getting cold out.”

            I unrolled the sleeping bag and tucked the thermal blanket inside. Then I rolled it back up and went back to my room to set it down. All my things in a row, I looked out the window. The sun was just starting to go down and I knew I would have to leave sometime soon.

            “Should I leave now or wait until dark? I don’t want anyone to see me and be suspicious but I also don’t want to have to set up ‘camp’ in the dark…” I made up my mind to leave in half an hour, when it was sort of dark, but there was still light. I put on my sneakers, put my long brown hair in a high ponytail, and put on a black baseball cap.

            With time to spare, I got my spiral notebook from my backpack and wrote a note to my father. It was short, but I had to leave something.

            “I’m leaving, just like I should have done so many years ago. We both knew something like this was bound to happen eventually. In case you didn’t notice, I’m an adult. Both of us also know it’s in our best interests if you don’t come looking for me.

          “This was written to you without regrets by Maeya.”

          I folded it in half and walked out of my room. My father was still snoring. I put the note on the table outside of his bedroom door, right next to where he kept his keys. Yes, they were car keys. He had a battered blue car that hardly ever started. He never taught me how to drive, because he thought I would steal his car and go out on joy rides, so I don’t have a license. For some reason, I was suddenly reminded of my mother, and the pictures my father had of her that he would never let me look at. I walked to the living room and the velvet box in which he kept them.

I looked left and right, though I knew he was sleeping, before opening the box. My fingers fell into worn places in the fabric, where my father’s fingers would probably fit perfectly. That’s when I realized, “He really does still care about her, doesn’t he?”

My mom’s smiling face beamed up at me when I lifted up the lid. I leafed through the pictures, seeing only her in each of them; wearing a dress on a stage, wearing overalls in the backyard, in a swimsuit at the beach, in a tie-die shirt and jean shorts sticking her tongue out at the camera, and so much more... I was surprised when I found some pictures with me in them, smiling along with her. One of them looked so familiar; I knew I had to keep it. I must have been two or three, wearing a yellow dress with my dark hair in braids. She was sitting next to me in a t-shirt and jeans, her light brown hair done the same way, her cheek pressed to mine, smiling the same smile as me, except I had less teeth.

Just looking at it brought a smile to my face. Our eyes were the same color, I could tell from this picture: caramel brown. I pressed the picture to my heart, never wanting to let it go. I closed the velvet box, keeping only that picture. Then I went back to my room and slipped the picture into the same secret pouch my money was inside safely. Half an hour had passed, so I opened my window to be blasted by cold air.

            “Brr, it’s cold!” I walked back to my closet and took out a black jacket. I put it on over my sweatshirt and walked back to the window. The roof was flat outside of my window, and then it slanted evenly down. Often, I climbed out onto the roof to look at the stars. Right then, I was not hoping for the stars to come out too soon. I reached out and set my duffel, sleeping bag, and cooler on the roof. I swung the backpack over my shoulder and adjusted the straps to fit snugly.

            Looking back into my room, I double-checked to make sure I wasn’t forgetting anything. Then I stepped out onto the roof and closed my window. I sat on the roof and slid down the slanted part until my feet were touching the edge. A tree sat just within my reach. I climbed up onto the branch that I could touch, though the cold bark burned my bare hands.

“Note to self,” I muttered, “Wear gloves next time you climb a tree in the winter!” I shook my head in disapproval of my own actions.

I reached down to pull my bags up to where I was. The only bag I had trouble getting up on the branch was the sleeping bag. It slipped out of my hands and fell to the ground. I held my breath to listen for anyone coming to investigate. None came to my ears’ attention.

            I climbed down the tree slowly, being as quiet as possible. When I was close enough, I dropped the duffel and cooler to the ground. I followed them shortly after, landing in the cool grass on my hands and knees. I pulled myself to my feet and prepared to go off. I set the cooler strap on my shoulder and strapped the sleeping bag to my backpack. With one last look at the house I grew up in, I picked up my duffel bag and started to walk away and leave my old, tortured life behind me to start fresh on my own.

            For the first time in my life, I felt like I could really decide what to do for myself.