Waiting until I was positive that my mother was asleep, I crept downstairs and out the door of our apartment, happy to finally be on my own. Well, I had my boyfriend in tow, but he was a necessity. I couldn't believe I'd worked up the courage to run away, much less with Trent. He was twenty, four years older than me, and had promised that he'd provide for me and take care of everything. It had taken some persuasion, but he'd finally talked me into it, and now here I sat in the passenger seat of his filthy 95' pickup. We were headed for Nevada from Arizona, planning on winning big in the casinos and eventually getting married.
"Oh my God, Trent! This is so exciting!" I exclaimed, jumping up and down in my seat.
"Shut up, Brianna," he told me gruffly, his eyes riveted on the road.
"Gawd, what's eating you?" I asked, snapping my gum.
"My problem is that I'm riding on three hours of sleep and just left my alchoholic father alone with a six pack! Unlike you, I don't have the perfect life that you so desperately want to run away from!" He exclaimed, slamming his hand aggresively on the dashboard, like he wished it were my head.
Regardless of what he thought, my life was soo not perfect. My mother was always working, and it was more like I lived alone anyways. Sure, the house I lived in was nice enough and my mom was nice, but I wanted more than a mother that only came home to change clothes and sleep. It was like she didn't even realize she had a sixteen year old in the house. I could throw a huge party and completely trash the house, and my mom wouldn't even notice. She wouldn't even notice I was running away, so it wasn't a problem. She's probably be happy that she didn't have a child holding her back from her career. That was Jenna Hopkins for ya, a workaholic that barely realized she had a kid. My dad was so much better. He had been my best friend up until he'd died three years ago from a heart attack.
Brianna, you know this is wrong, I heard my father's voice in my head, chastising me for running away.
Mom won't even notice I'm gone, I reasoned, crossing my arms over my chest and looking outt he window.
Don't be so sure of that Bri, he said, his deep voice that I missed so much filling my head.
"So, Trent, when we get to Reno, where are we gonna stay? What are we gonna do? Will it be as great as you always said it'd be?" I asked, my excitement oozing out of my every pore.
"I told you to shut up Brianna!" He yelled, slapping his hand across my face. I was stunned, and my face stung, but not as much as my heart. I always knew Trent was aggressive, but I never thought he'd go so far as to take his anger and frustration out on me.
"One more word out of you, and I'm kicking you out," he warned darkly, changing lanes quickly.
Brianna, my father's miserable voice resonated in my head, what have you gotten yourself into?
I don't know, daddy, I replied, completely agreeing with him. What had I gotten myself into.
Well, it was official. I was nineteen, legally divorced, and three months pregnant. Driving manically back to Arizona. I don't know what I was going to do there, but I knew that anywhere was better than with my abusive, alcoholic ex-husband Trent. I'd taken the pickup while he was sleeping-which was legaly mine since I won it in the court battle-and had hopped in and was driving straight through. I hadn't so much as seen or talked to my mom since the day before I left, and I wasn't sure what I was going to say when-if-I saw her.
Well, dad. On the road again, eh? I thought, hoping to attract my father's attention. He'd come popping into my head at the most random times, but he'd been there for me when I was going through the divorce and when I found out about the baby.
Yes, honey, but this time, you're going back where you belong.
Very true. Do you think she'll take me back, though? I was very concerned that my mother wouldn't want me. I was also concerned that she had barely acknowledged the fact that her daughter was missing. There was only one way to find out, though.
She's missed you very much, Brianna. I still can't believe you put her through this. My father said on a sigh.
yeah right, I thought bitterly. Why would she care? She didn't care when I was at home.
Oh honey. Don't you see? She worked so hard so that you would have the life she a;ways wanted you to.
I was finally starting to see why my mother had worked so much. It wasn't because she didn't care about me, it was because she did. I can't believe I'd been so stupid.
Thank you, dad. I'm going tos et things straight. Goodbye.
About two blocks from my old house, I started feeling panicky, but quickly quelled the emotion, telling ymself that no matter what happened, at least I was going to make it through this. . .somehow. Parking in the driveway, i saw my mother's old Mercedes sitting on the curb, and the kitchen light was on. After all this time, I still knew everything about my old home. And that's when I realized. My house was a home. Not just a place to sleep and eat and change for work or school, but a place to spend time wth family, to provide safety and comfort, and at that moment, I realized just how much I missed Arizona, and more importantly, my mother. Walking up the walkway, I rang the doorbell and what stood there for what seemed like ten hours but what was probably more like ten seconds before I was enveloped in a huge hug that threatened to suffocate me, but that was okay. Both my mother and I were crying, and I knew that now, here in a small town in Arizona, I was home, in the safety and security 'd always known. And it felt wonderful.
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