• No regret. That’s how I felt, as I took in a deep breath of fresh Florida air hoping it would be my last. A cold breeze brushed by me, as if running from its on past. It kissed my sore cheeks, like hands working away to soothe my bruised arms. One glance, with the deep lake beneath me, the clear sky above me and the world as it runs in perfect sync around me. I wonder if I could have ever fit into that priceless sync, but the better of my mind tells me "no". I let out my breath, close my eyes and release my hands from the sturdy bridge, leaping into fate. Splash! The waters cold temperature, hugs me like bandages for my hurt skin. My body descending farther and farther into the dark depths of the cold water. The colors of the real world above me start to blur together, and for one quick moment I feel as if I should reach up and fight to reach the top again, not as regret but as wonder. Wondering if there was somewhere in the whole world where I could belong, but the better part of my mind tells me "no" on that one to. Just as the comfort of drowning in the lake relives me, I hear the water splash above me and someone grabbing at my hurting wrist and pulling me to the surface. I let go of all thoughts and let it go black, hoping I would be pronounced dead the second I reach the surface.
    But that’s not my luck, the stranger that insisted on keeping me in this wasteland world, pulled me to the surface and knew exactly how to perform c.p.r . I spit out water and get the faint taste of blood. I don’t want to open my eyes, don’t want to face the new reality of this unfaithful world, but the man pulls me if, and embraces me in a tight hug "I’m so glad your ok Katie, your safe now, what were u thinking." he sound more broken then mad, I leaned in to him, his warmth fixed me from the freezing cold of the water left on my skin and clothes. Did he think that now I was truly safe when he just pulled me from my safety? And there we sat, right above my only escape but right in the middle of mu unfortunate reality. We couldn’t have been there long; I caught my breath and had a shaky stand up. He jolted up and stood close as if he wanted to be sure, that if I feel, or ran to jump again, he could catch me. I glanced up at his face and found something so familiar but I just couldn’t place it. But it was his eyes that struck me. The deepest blue that I have ever seen, more amazing then the beaches in Hawaii, none could even begin to comprehend the stunning effect of them and no one could ever explain it. His hair long but curly, the darkest a black could come, and damp, from my supposed rescue. He stood about 6'2" and dressed in black, dripping wet.
    I pulled my eyes away from his and he reached out toward me, but I shifted back and he got the hint, that I wanted nothing to do with anyone, not now not ever. Or at least that’s what I thought. I shifted my glance down toward my wet converse, on a strong bridge and started to walk away, but he followed, "are you ok, you could have drown?" his voice was deeper then I anticipated. I kept walking hoping he would stop and leave me to fend for myself. But he wanted an answer, so I gave it to him, "that was the point," mumbled under my breath. But this guy couldn’t take a hint of any kind, "aren’t you glad I saved you then," he said it so smug like he was a hero and I should be kissing the ground he walked on. I stopped dead in my tracks and turned around quickly on my heel, he stopped in just enough time to avoid any physical contact. I fixed on to his blue eyes and spoke with growing anger, "saved me...u think u SAVED me! No see saving me would be leaving me in the damn lake, you didn’t save me, you hurt me by pulling me out!" his faced dropped as if I just killed his puppy dog. With a deep sigh I turned around and continued on my way, but he didn’t move. about seven steps away from him he asked "so you wanted to die?" how dumb could this boy be, I stopped turned my body around again and shouted, "well why the ******** do you think I jumped into a lake, it sure as hell wasn’t for a swim in 35 degree water!" ok now I seriously killed his puppy, laughed about it, then ran over its corpse with a car and left it in his bed. We stood there, neither one of us moving on a dirt road in the middle of nature. He finally spoke, "I’m Ethan." no response from me except a nod, and with that I turned and hit the ground running.

    The dirt road in the small town eventually turned in to real asphalt, and it empowered me to run faster. The running made me powerful, untouchable, and on some level safe in my terrifying life. But the problem with running through a small town is it gives you too much time to ponder too many things. And if the spare thought time wasn’t enough, try adding all the faces of a small town that have known you since the day your parents brought you home, and all there happy faces starring at you, completely unaware of what’s gone on behind closed doors for the last fifteen years. They pretend to know you, they wave as you run by dripping wet, and they act as if the world is a perfect place. On some level I wonder if and how they never noticed what was happening to me, what changed me from the little girl with a bright smile, curly brown hair, and happiness, What changed me in to the bitter sweet girl who just moments ago begged for death the take her away. Two left turns followed by one right, then three modern Victorians down, and I stop. Heart beating in sync with my head pounding, joined by the pulsing of my bruised arms and face, from the outside looking in, its amazingly peaceful. Two stories tall, painted eggshell, with sweet red roses lining a stone brick walk way, bordered by a white pig it fence and cloaked with a sea of bright green grass, auburn window shutters and a red door. It seems like a real home from the outside looking in, but once you’ve seen the darkness it holds, it looks like hell.
    I unlatch the white gate and walk past the well cared for roses, reach for the red door’s handle, breath deep and twist, I’m home. In the foyer stands the man I once knew. Tall and firm, he stood dressed up in a fine suit, holding his leather briefcase in his left hand and coffee in his right. “I'm working late tonight Sara so I won’t be home for dinner,” he calls to the unfamiliar lady in the kitchen. “Oh, goodbye Katie,” he says as he brushes past me and out the door. Its only noon and u can smell the scotch on his breath. “Bye dad,” I respond though I doubt he heard he’s in the Lexus and down the driveway in a flash. The unfamiliar lady steps around the corner, drying a dish, and wearing an apron, to no doubt protect her douche from any such sign of life. She stands with perfect posture, her long blond wrapped tightly in a bun, green eyes, and fifteen pounds under weight, “oh Katie, I didn’t know you were home,” her voice soft but judging, “you’re a mess, head up stairs and get cleaned up, I’ll make you some eggs.” I nod my head, and climb up the stairs. At the top lays a long hallway, three doors on each side and one centered at the end of the hallway. The door to my parents room, the people I once knew as loving, used to sleep there…together, but now its mostly just mom, dad working late most nights.
    Third door on the left leads to my room, past the guest room and the office. On the right laid a bathroom, right between the two rooms that no one braves entering. I head off toward the bathroom to shower away the mucky lake water and clean my bruises. Walking past the first room, something haunts me, makes me want to reach for the door knob and open to past memories, but I know better. In the shower, the warm water pounds away at my bruises and a long cut on my back, if only the water and soap could wash away all my problems. I cover myself in an Egyptian cotton robe and stand in the mirror, the bruises on my arms almost faded away but I can’t say the same for my cheek. Three noticeable finger slashes of a hand that insist it loves me. I dab on some councilor to hide the proof and head for my room. On the door hangs wooden letters, spelling out a lost girls name…my name. The room is painted a soft blue with fluttering butterflies on one wall. Trophies, awards, medals, and ribbons displayed proudly in a glass case. College flags, pictures, and broachers posted on another wall. Sleep number bed, dressed in expensive silk sheets and a closet full of fancy mall clothes, everything most girls only have in there dreams, but everything I have grown to hate. I dress in the simplest shirt I can find and hundred dollar pair of jeans that look exactly like the ones sold on walmart.com for seven fifty. I pass by the two doors that hold the darkest secrets, knowing I can never have the two things missing from those rooms, back.
    Downstairs I sit at one end of a granite topped breakfast bar, mom hands me a plate with a two egg omelet and hash browns. She pours me a glass of orange juice and hands me a fork. “Thank you,” I say softly. No response from her. She turns around and begins cleaning out the coffee maker. Two bites in to the food and one less sip of orange juice and I had to ask, “Do you miss him?” She doesn’t stop, “miss who,” she asks. I take a long pause and another sip of orange juice before I say, “Scotty…” She stops, slams the coffee pot down on the counter and turns around viciously. With wide eyes and a threatening voice she says, “we don’t speak of him, he is dead to this family and if I ever hear u say his name again, I will wash your mouth out with soap,” she pauses, takes a deep breath then continues “now finish your breakfast.” And that was that.