I’ll Show ‘Em. I’ll Run Away

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Non-Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: October 07, 2016

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Submitted: October 07, 2016

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When I was a kid every day I anticipated a spanking and I was usually right. My mother and father really had their hands full. I was no pleasure.

Like it was only yesterday, I can recall my feelings and thoughts when I said to myself, enough is enough.

How much can anyone be yelled at? Everything I do can’t be wrong. Yet, my mother and father thought so. Then one day I decided, all by myself, that’s it’s better just to leave. Then, they’ll be sorry. I remember thinking probably they’ll even worry about me and feel really bad that they screamed at me. For the life of me, I didn’t know why I didn’t think of it sooner … last year when I was seven. Well, it’s never too late. I’m gonna do it. I’ll pack my knapsack, wait ‘till everyone’s sleepin’, and sneak out.

That was easy, there I was, free, free as a bird. No one around. No one to bother me. Now, where to go? I didn’t know, I’d think about that tomorrow. For the rest of the night, I’ll go to the park just across the street, find a tree to sleep under and the next day I’ll figure out where to go.

How did it get so cold, I wondered? The day it was sunny and warm. Why should it be so cold at night? Trying to keep warm, but couldn’t. All I could think about was the bed I left, nice and warm; and, there I was lying on the grass under an elm tree, freezin’. Not how I thought it would be.

Shakin’ from the cold air, full of goosebumps, I crossed the street, rang the doorbell of my house, and waited for my father or mother to open the door and let me in.

Minutes passed, seemed longer, and I rang the doorbell again, and again. Father finally came to the door and asked, “Who is it?”

“It’s me, let me in.”

“Who are you?” he said.

“It’s me, your son.”

“You can’t be my son. He ran away.”

“Father, it’s me. Please, let me in.”

“No”, my father said.

I sat down on the doorstep, felt cold, sad and alone, tears filled my eyes, and I cried out loud, “Please, please open the door.”

“I will”, my father said, “but there is a condition. A condition you must think about carefully before you answer.”

“Anything”, I finally said.

“I’ll let you in if you promise to stay and never run away again.”

“Okay”, I said, and the door opened.

And, trust me, I kept my promise.

 


© Copyright 2017 Lenny Lowengrub. All rights reserved.

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