stella jade madden.
my whole life, there has been a mysterious yet unmistakable voice calling me to follow along. that's not to sound disturbed or schizophrenic. it's not the voice of a physical human, rather i think of it as a summoning from mother nature herself. sometimes, this voice echoes in the tail end of a rustle of wind, only to be heard in the quietest of nights. other times, it masks itself in the crashing ocean waves that seem to lure me in to the water. the simplest of days, the voice hides behind a single cloud in a clear blue sky that i could get lost in forever. it whispers "come follow me."
when you've lived in one place for most of your life, it gets boring after awhile. no matter how many new stores and restaurants they build or fun tourist attractions added, the town simply just grows old. for me this town is portland, oregon. i've lived here since i was four years old. where i resided before portland is irrelevant because i'm not old enough to remember it. at this point in my life, as a sophomore in high school, there's not an inch of this town that hasn't been seen by my eyes.
trust me. it's what i've spent the last sixteen years of my life doing - exploring. i've made it a priority to visit every place portland has to offer, even in the roads less traveled by. when i was younger, i used to get angry that i couldn't grow up to travel the world as a job. the world seemed so big and i was so small. it's too bad everything has already been found by the time i was born. sometimes i think i should've existed in the columbus era. maybe i would have discovered the americas first instead. maybe i'm crazy or maybe i know there's a big, huge world out there and exhibit a strong willingness to see all of it.
so i'm stella, stella jade madden if you must know all the details. quick recap on what have i told you so far: i live in oregon, i wanted to travel the world, and i hear a voice that constantly tells me to abandon my home, but i'm not mental. i'm an only child, which in other words means i'm lonely all the time. my parents are not around too much, both of them are abusive junkies. i will never be anything like them. they've ruined most of my childhood. perhaps that's why i've been hooked on running away for so long.
one secret fact about me is that i'm a huge book nerd. with an imaginative mind like mine, stories take me away to a fantasy that i can picture so perfectly just from words. it's like a quick escape from the world. depending on the book, i could go anywhere, see anything. it's quite a great way to explore the world from your bedroom window. now that you know a secret fact about me, we're no longer strangers right.
although my life may not be perfect in many aspects, i manage to see the beauty in all things. all it takes is a walk outside of your home and a venture out into the unknown.
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thin smoke escapes from the pits of potholes that i carefully leap around trying to make my way down the alley. it's a shortcut into the city, otherwise i wouldn't take it. the narrow street smells worse than it appears, which is seemingly impossible. i know the horrible stench comes from the first story high dumpsters where god knows what is trashed from local restaurants. in order to tolerate it, i must tuck my nose under the fabric of my hoodie as a makeshift mask. every time that my eyes start to water i'm not sure if it's a result from the smoke sinking into my pupils or the putrid smell that won't escape my nostrils. occasionally, a cough slips out.
my watch reads 9:37am, about an hour and half since i bolted from school. i only had 8 minutes to get there. most mornings, if i'm lucky, my mom musters enough energy to drive me to school. i wait for her to pull away in the direction of home before i head the opposite way. the days that she doesn't drive me makes skipping that much easier. i don't even walk to school, just straight to wherever i'm headed for that day. i like it best that way. i don't have to worry about her receiving calls from the school. she never picks up the phone anyways.
this morning, she had been in a terrible mood and slashed a broken beer bottle across my face for leaving a spoon in the sink. she left a huge gash against my cheek, but thankfully i was able to stop the bleeding before i left. i'll have to hide it by the time i get to where i'm going so i don't draw unnecessary attention. it was already risky being out during this time when cops often searched kids for skipping.
at last i see the light at the end of tunnel. dropping my hoodie from around my face, my throat gets hit with the first inhale of clean oxygen its had in ten minutes. i almost let out a sigh of pleasure from the relief of crossing out of the alleyway onto the main street. adults on their way to work whizz around me talking through bluetooth headsets and holding mysterious briefcases. i blend in with the crowd of people on the sidewalk, despite being more out of place than ever. i now only have 3 minutes to get there. i begin speed walking.
i arrive to the small cafe right on time, the bell attached to the front door alerting everyone of my entrance. not too many people are dining in this morning. less heads turning to stare at me too. blake is already standing at the edge of the counter with my usual bagel in hand. everyday he provides me with a free bagel right as he goes on his first break because he found out that i don't have food regularly at home. it's the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me. shows that there's still good humans out there somewhere.
i grab it out of his head and nod, "thank you as usual blake!"
he shakes his head with disappointment, "promise me one of these days you'll actually go to class stella jade."
"sorry i don't make promises!" i exclaim on my way back towards the door, grabbing an apple juice off the stand. "besides, how else would i eat if i didn't come here?"
my body slips out the door before the rag blake threw at me for stealing the juice hits me. the same bell signals my goodbye. i bite off the corner of my bagel as i continue to stroll down the street's sidewalk. today's adventure brought us to a local flea market that only pops up in the spring. it features lots of cool booths from ethnic food to vintage clothing, custom art, albums & records, stationery stations. this event was about as close to cool as it gets here in boring old portland these days. if i didn't get there early, all the good stuff would be gone. hence why i had to ditch school to come.
so here's my issue with school: it's boring. everyday it's the same classes, people, drama. i can't possibly stand wasting my time in class when the world is waiting out there. i can attend every once in awhile, but too much of it makes my skin itch. eleven years was enough. i can afford to take off some days in the twelfth. i'll graduate. i'm not worried about it.
i only had $15 in spare cash to spend today. it's all that i had leftover from my paycheck after getting a desperately needed haircut. it would only be enough to get one item so i'd need to choose carefully. whatever i buy would need to be worth it. walking into the market is a different atmosphere. it's bright, fun, and happy. the perfect escape from a boring life. my first stop is at a handmade leather bags shop. a royal blue leather in the shape of a backpack catches my eye. the ginger man is beyond proud of his craft and bursting with excitement to share it with the world. i pick up the price tag, see it is marked $300, and thank the man for his time before walking away.
after walking from booth to booth for hours, nothing stuck out to me within my price range. the last seller contains thrifted books, something right up my alley. a boy that looks like he's in his early to mid twenties is sitting in a stool in the corner. headphones are plugged into his ears and he appears to be watching something on his phone. his face doesn't move from the screen to see who entered. other than him, i'm the only one here. the books on the shelves are organized by color, starting with red and fading all the way to black. i start to pluck novels off the bookcase, turning each over to read the description on the back and flipping through the pages to get a feel for its condition.
"can i help you find anything?" a deep voice from behind me asks.
i jump and place my hand over my heart, startled by the noise. i never heard the boy get up and walk over. i guess i had gotten lost in another book again.
he notices my jump back and lets out a soft laugh. his arms go up in surrender, "sorry i didn't mean to scare you."
i let my hand fall away from my chest. i take this time to study his features that i couldn't observe with his head down in his phone. his skin was a fair white with soft brown hair and a sharp jawline. he didn't look like he belonged in a vintage book store. i can't find any words, just awkwardly hold up the book in my hand. i don't know what i was doing fantasizing about a man who was clearly too old for me.
"do you want to buy that?" he suspiciously questions with one eyebrow raised.
i nod dramatically in response. he takes the book from my hand so that he can check me out. in reality,
i had no idea what i was purchasing nor how much it cost. i had yet to look at the book before he interrupted. welp, i hope it's a good one.
i meet him over at the counter where he scans it and places it in a bag. "that'll be $16."
just. my. luck.
disappointed, i let a bit of a frown take over my face. i sheepishly speak, "oh i'm sorry. i only have $15, i'll have to leave it." i turn to walk away.
"wait!" he shouts sort of too loudly. his cheeks instantly blush once he realizes we're still the only ones in his space. "you can have it. i'll give it to you for fifteen. don't worry about it."
i slowly turn around and place the money on the counter. grabbing the book from him, i set out to start heading home. now that things have slowed down on the streets, i can inspect the book i purchased as i walk. the title reads the universe of us by lang leav. as i flip through the pages, it becomes clear that it's a collection of poetry, not a story. it's not something i'd usually pick out, but i'll read anything these days.
her words entice me as i manage to navigate through the sidewalk and keep my head in this book at the same time. i must appear absolutely crazy to others, but i rather have my head in a book than a phone. the only time i look up is when i need to cross or make a turn. it seems like the time it takes me to get to the alley is cut in half by how distracted i am. i shove my book into my backpack and my nose back under my hoodie to prepare.
taking a big breath of clean air, i slide my way in so discreetly the people behind me don't know where i went. as the darkness of an ending sunset begins to encapsulate the narrow way, every little sound makes me jump. the sound of footsteps makes me pick up my pace, almost speed walking now. my paranoia has always been bad. maybe it's gotten a little worse over the course of the last few months. a rattling noise begins coming from one of the dumpsters. i shutter. it's most likely rats. i hear a hiss as i quickly move past it. the paranoia keeps itching at my skin until i can't resist turning my head over my shoulder to check if anybody is there. no one ever is. yet when i finally turn my head around, i let out a blood curdling scream at the unexpected presence in front of me.