The Escape

Crash!  The sound of glass shattering against the wall sent a shudder down John’s spine.  Apparently, his dad hadn’t liked the new cookie jar his mom had bought.  He looked up at the wall separating his bedroom from the living room and saw a small hole about half-way up.  He wondered if his dad realized just how thin the walls in their trailer were, or if he even cared at the moment.  He had been listening to his dad ranting and raving for the better part of an hour now. 
         This was the kind of thing that John had grown up with.  He didn’t really remember much of it when he was younger, but the last few years had steadily gotten worse.  Most of the time things went smoothly, but every so often his dad would get liquored-up and something really stupid would just set him off.  John didn’t even know what had set him off this time.
         John was lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling and wondering what would happen next.  He was absent-mindedly playing with the dog tags hanging from the bed post.  They had been his grandfather’s back in WWII, and had been given to John just a few days before his grandfather died.  He almost always wore them, but had taken them off when his dad had started in.  The last time he had worn them during an argument with his dad had gotten the chain broke when the old drunk had grabbed John by the neck and slung him against the wall. 
         About a minute went by without a sound before John heard the back door slam shut.  Unfortunately, he knew his dad wasn’t leaving, but just going out to his truck to get another beer from the cooler.  There were times that John just wished his dad would get in his truck and never come back.  More than that, John wished he could leave and never come back.
         John looked out the side window and saw his dad making his way to his truck for another beer.  He didn’t really feel like he was scared of the man, but he knew he never really wanted to confront him.  John had nearly three inches of height and 20 pounds on him, but he had always backed down when he was confronted. 
         John sat there staring at his dad drinking a beer in the driveway and wondered how such an asshole seemed to be so well liked by just about everyone.  Everybody he knew thought very highly of his dad, but then again, everybody he knew didn’t know the same man that John saw at night behind closed doors. 
         On the plus side of the situation, John had never gone hungry before, as well as always had clothes to wear.  He always had any medical care he had ever needed, especially the time he had to have his chin sewn from being hit in the face with a full can of beer (his dad had been pissed when John’s glasses had gotten bent while playing football with his friends).
           He was even having his college education paid for, even though he hadn’t had a choice in the major.  All-in-all, criminal law was an okay major, but the only reason his dad was making him take it was so he could become a state cop.  Not the chosen profession that John had always hoped for.  Personally, he had hoped to go to school to be an engineer, but his dad had figured that with his son being a state cop he would have something more to brag about to his friends.  It also didn’t hurt that his dad was a truck driver. 
         The things that John wished other people could see that his dad did would probably change his life forever.  If they could just see all of the things that his dad had broken over the years, from dishes to furniture to the ceramic birds that his mom had collected.  If they could just see all of the times that John had been threatened by his dad with some kind of weapon, from a socket wrench to a pocket knife to the lid and wooden handle of the antique butter churner in the kitchen. 
         He wondered if his dad could really be punished by the law for all of the things he did.  John had already found out that you can’t go to jail just for being a real asshole.  He wished that his dad could be arrested for the one crime that he had seemingly perpetrated from the day John was born:  the crippling of John’s soul. 
         John knew that as long as he was living there in his dad’s house with his dad’s rules, he would never have the opportunity to really live life on his terms.  His only hope was to escape.  It would be a hard journey, but once he got out and could make his way somewhere else, he would be able to find the things he needed in his life to be happy. 
         He turned away from the window and began to look through his things for what he needed most.  The first thing he did was get into his sock drawer and get out his check book.  He had managed to save up about $2000 which he knew would give him a start.  Next, he started packing a few things in to his back pack that he would need.  Once he had his clothes packed away, along with his check book and a few other personal belongings. 
         Last, he packed up his journal.  He would record all of the events on the adventure that was now before him.  Maybe one day he would be able to write a book about the things that had happened to him.  He knew he had lived a pretty crappy life, but those were the things that people liked to watch on TV. 
         Once he had his back pack ready, he placed it beside the window.  He looked outside and saw his dad still by the truck.  Apparently he had decided to finish the beer he had gotten and would bring a fresh one back in.  Since he didn’t have a clear escape yet, John began to look around the room and see if there was anything else he needed. 
         After a quick glance at the bed, John decided to fix the blankets up to make it look like he was under the covers asleep.  There had been times his dad had come into his room to bring him in on the fight and John had faked being asleep.  It had worked, but he couldn’t see how anybody could sleep through all of the noise that his father would make.  The one good thing from his dad being drunk is that he was always too drunk to really think. 
         John made it back over to the window to see that his dad was already heading back to the house.  Once his dad was out of sight, John slowly opened his bedroom window.  He popped the screen out and lowered his back pack onto the ground.  Once his back pack was out, John turned around and slowly began to lower his body out of the window. 
         Once he was completely out, John looked up into his room one last time.  As he scanned the room, he saw something that caught his eye.  His grandfather’s dog tags were hanging on his bed post.  How could I have forgotten those, he thought, disgusted with himself.
         Realizing he could never leave without them, John began to pull himself back into his room.  He quickly closed the gap between him and his bed, and grabbed the tags.  Once he had them around his neck, he looked back towards the door.  He had heard his dad yell something at his mom, but he hadn’t understood the words. 
         As he made his way back over to the window, to his escape route, his bedroom door swung open.  John turned and saw his dad standing in the doorway, with a beer in one hand and a cigarette in the other.  He had almost made it out of there without getting caught, but here he was, only a few feet from the window and his escape looking rather bleak.  He looked at the window and could almost taste freedom, then looked back at his dad, who by the apparent look in his eyes hadn’t realized yet what was going on. 
          John was frozen in place, not knowing what he should do.  He looked at the window again and could see all of the great things that were in store for him if he took that door.  He would be able to control his own life for the first time ever.  He would make his own decisions and be his own man.  It was his right to have that kind of life.
         He looked back at his dad and all he could see was a life of torture before he would be put out of his misery, much like a horse is put down once it breaks its leg.  He would have to put up with more nights of the screaming, of the threatening, and the occasional times that his dad actually carried through with his threats. 
         Looking at his dad, who was swaying a little from all of the drinking, John had a revelation.  Who was this man to keep him from having his life the way he wanted it?  What gave him the right to John’s happiness and freedom?  John could now see his dad in a new light.  He no longer saw the man who had for so long terrorized him into meek submission.  He only saw the man who got drunk and destroyed their home, with the occasional fits of physical violence against both John and his mother.  The man was a coward, nothing more.  And John knew he would never fear him again.  He would never run from this man.   
         John decided in that instant that he was not going to sneak out the window like a coward.  He no longer had anything to fear from his dad.  He was going to walk right out the front door, and nothing was going to stop him.  Instead of fear, there was only a cold burning anger in his heart.  John took the first step towards not just the door that night, but the first step towards a future that was his and his alone to live.