Chapter 6 - there is no chapter title

Chapter 6

I am a liar, a manipulator, a deceiver. And I was going to become a coward. That was the phrase being played in my head as I stuffed necessities in my bag. Food, sweaters, t-shirts, jeans, notebook(without which, you would not be reading this), and a map I got from the internet. I walked toward the door, hoping that I would not have to talk to mom. I could hear the fan whirling, and the sound of my favorite band playing on the television. What a strange way to end my days of dwelling in this hole. I made it outside, clenching the strap on my bag, which was stuffed to the point of ripping. I think I heard one of the buttons on it tear off. I walked up the steady incline, slipping once on the cracked pavement. I reached the end of the driveway, not even looking back. Soon I made it around the block, thirty minutes later, out of town. It was strange, I hated my mother but... There was a small part of me that wanted her to come running out the door, screaming “Don’t Go”, or “I need you here”, or at least “I love you.” I didn’t like her, but she was still my mother. So she must have had some compassion for me when I was born, right? That was why I was leaving. To save her the trouble of dealing with whatever was happening to me. But this isn’t a happy story. You want to read about a fantasy story? Then go read freaking harry potter! What happened to me was not a magical thing. More like hell on earth during the summer. Back to the run away adolescent. I was walking for about two or three hours down a highway when I started to feel like crap. Like my forehead was being pressed against a hot oven. I dropped to the ground, rolling in what I hoped was just dirt, trying to stop the pain. It seeped into my right eye, burning each second. I tried opening my eye lids, but no luck. Do you know the feeling when you get soap or shampoo in your eyes when you’re in the shower? Well this felt like I squirted a whole bottle of cleaning detergent into my eye. No, strike that. This felt worse. I couldn’t see, so I hopped up onto my feet. I started to scramble around, reaching for something to grab onto to get my footing. The fourth time I stuck my hand out, I grabbed a telephone pole. I stood there, scraping at my eye for what felt like a day. It finally subsided, and I got my vision back. I looked around, waiting for the fuzziness of rubbing my eyes to kick in. But, another weird change happened then. I could actually see better. I could make out details on things you would never expect to have such definition. Like my hand, when I looked down at it, I could see each individual pore open. I freaked me out. I started to get dizzy from the sight of everything. I felt my self get light headed, and I was down again, past out. I thought in the few fleeting seconds before unconsciousness, maybe I’ll wake up from all of this like a dream. But what I got in return was a nightmare, one of many to come.

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