Leaving

WARNING: BAD LANGUAGE AND ADULT THEMES

Zip! I closed up my backpack as I walked out the door...They were out drunk again. I had to leave. Leave before they could find me. Leave before they could drag me back. Leave before anyone tried to convince me otherwise. Just leave the filthy streets of New York City.

"Where are you going?" My best friend, Wave, asked me.

"I don't know." I replied. "But I'm leaving."

He followed me. I knew that there would be no way I was going alone. It was good to have him beside me.

They had never loved me...Never wanted me. They were always trying to get me to leave. They would be happy now. They'd come home drunk from a night of partying, noses dusted with cocaine. With the mingled scent of different smokes stenching whatever clothes they had left on. Lipstick and glitter covering the both of them. How I hated it. It was disgusting. All they had ever wanted was to have a good time. They wouldn't care if the roof smothered over me. They wouldn't take a single moment to ask themselves, "Where's Blaze?"

I finally had the chance to get away. I had been saving up for this for a long time. I would survive. I flipped my hair out my eyes. Wave stared at me dreamily. "What is it, Wave? You're acting really weird. If you're gay, just say it."

"Blaze, we've been through this. I'm not gay." Wave rolled his eyes. "You look kind of like a model."

I raised an eyebrow. He was going to be dramatic, I could tell.

"That silky black hair, those icy blue eyes, the pale skin." he shivered. "If I were a girl, I'd die."

Yes, he was definitely being dramatic again.

We climbed onto Bus 48. I payed the man a $20 bill. He was about to protest when I argued, "Keep the change. and the next time you have a crappy day, just remember the teenager that gave you hope."

Wave and I took a seat somewhere in the middle left of the bus. Only a few other people were on board.

We sat together, me with headphones in my ears, Wave scribbling away in his sketchpad. His green eyes were bright with concentration.  He eventually fell asleep against my shoulder, his sketchpad sliding onto my lap. He drew the skyline of New York City. Eventually, I fell asleep, too.

"End of the line." the bus driver grunted. He was a plump old man with gray hair that was beginning to whiten. His dark grey eyes were behind a pair of round glasses. I nudged Blaze, who woke up immediately. The driver looked at me oddly. We stepped off, onto the dusty road. How the fuck had we gotten so far away?

"Hey, kid," said the bus driver, "Keep this safe." He threw a wooden box at me. I caught with both of my hands. "Hey!" I yelled. "What's the big idea?!"

But he only drove off.

"Fucking weirdo." I muttered. My arm absentmindedly reached toward my stomach. Just under my shirt was the tattoo I had gotten three years ago. A mistake made by a troubled fifteen-year-old. I shoved the wooden box into my backpack, beginning to walk.

Wave and I walked for hours. The fog hung in the air like a thick curtain. It seemed to press down on my shoulders. We hadn't found anything until about three in the morning. I used my emotions as a drive. As for Wave, well, he never seemed to run out of energy.

We found a barn. We slept there for the night. Wave fell asleep on top of a bunch of hay. I let the moonlight wash over me until I fell asleep at the peak of dawn.

"Blaze," Wave whined. I didn't move. "Blaze..." he repeated. I still didn't stir. "BLAZE!" he yelled. I didn't want to get up.

He seemed to decide that this was the perfect time to sing "Home On the Range" in a loud, extremely off-key voice.

"Jesus Christ, Wave! What the fuck is it?!" I roared.

"I'm hungry." he said innocently. As though he hadn't just been screaming in my face.

"Here," I said, tossing him a muffin.

"Goodie goodie gumdrops!" he squealed, scarfing it down. That kid had the appetite of a bear.

I pulled out an apple, taking a bite out of it. I also got out a bottle of water.

"NO FREAKING FAIR!" Wave tackled me. "I WANT SOME TOO!"

I handed him a bottle and he sat down quietly.

"We're leaving once you're done." I told him.

"Why?" he asked, his mouth slightly dripping water.

"This place doesn't feel like home."

Then it happened, hours later, when we were hiking up a hill. "HOLY FUCKING CRAP!" I yelled. A church had caught fire. A middle-aged man was watching with a young woman, and a crowd of kids.

"Richard, I'm worried. Some of the children are missing."

"Nonsense, Pauline." Richard reassured her. "I'm sure they're just wandering around."

I never could figure out what possessed me at that moment. Because upon hearing that, I dropped my backpack and ran right into the church. Smoke began to choke me. I tried to stare through the walls of flame. Ash rained down like black snowflakes, never dissolving. The smoke's acrid stench burned my throat. The smell crossed between rotting garbage and a truckload of burnt toast. I heard muffled crying. I followed the sound, trying to not let the fire consume me. I found the kids, covered in ash. Only one wasn't crying. He had brown hair and green eyes. He was trying to calm the others.

"Superman has come." I announced, trying to be witty. I told Wave to go outside and catch the kids. I gently plopped them outside the window, Wave catching them. I managed to escape just before the church collapsed onto itself, curling into a pile of blackened dust.

I limped outside. A piece of wood had fallen on my leg before I made it out. Lucky, it had only burned the ankle of my jeans. But it still hurt. "Let's go." I muttered to Wave. We left before anyone could come by to thank us, or do anything else that might be stupid or embarrassing.

Fog hung thickly in the air. There was a well not too far away from the site. Still coughing, I pulled up the bucket, dipping in my water bottle. Just as I was about to turn around, the fog seemed to push me down into the well. As I was falling, my only thought was, SINCE WHEN ARE WELLS SO FUCKING DEEP?!