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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/685250-Chronicles-Of-A-Runaway
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by belle Author IconMail Icon
Rated: 13+ · Non-fiction · Biographical · #685250
My experiences as a runaway....
First, I must tell you a little about the events leading up to my first time running away. I was 10 years old at the time.

My mother had a new boyfriend. Another alcoholic, like herself. They were out one evening, had a little too much fun and were involved in a wreck. Both landed in the hospital.
The police showed up at our door and informed me that she would be in the hospital and unable to care for my sisters and I for quite awhile. Her injuries weren't fatal, but she was busted up pretty bad.

My sister, Lyn and I ended up at the local children's home. My baby sister, Ivy had to go to foster care, because the home didn't take babies. I, being a kid, was terrified we would never see our mother again, no matter how much they tried to reassure me.

The home was made up of several buildings. Ours was a huge old victorian, complete with balconies, columns, and fire escapes. We were introduced to our house mother, Miss Birdee. Short, slim little woman that didn't look like she had an ounce of warmth in her. She showed us around, introduced us to some of the other kids, unlucky enough to end up in her care.

The 2nd day of our ordeal they whisked us off to the Dr. I didn't understand why, since neither of us were sick, until much later. I will never forget or forgive this Dr. We had to take off all our clothes, even our underpants. This man without any explanation, began doing a pelvic exam on me. I sat straight up and pulled away from him. I'd never had one before and didn't want one then. I asked him, "What are you doing?" He didn't explain, just pushed me back down and said, "It's ok, I'm not going to hurt you, I just need to check you out down here." He did the same thing to Lyn. Thankfully, she doesn't remember any of it. She was only two. Seems he was checking us for sexual abuse. Standard procedure for kids sent to the home. Even though our mother hadn't abused us, just been in a car wreck.

Lyn's crib wasn't far from my bed. Most nights she would cry for our mother. I tried to comfort her and eventually she'd fall asleep. One night she was inconsolable. Miss Birdee apparently had enough of her crying this time and came in with a coat hanger. To my horror, she was going to spank Lyn with it. I jumped out of my bed and told this woman, if she touched my sister I would kill her. I meant it. I was ready to tear her apart. Miss Birdee backed off. The next day they moved Lyn to another building. We still saw each other at meals. Everyone ate at the cafeteria. We weren't supposed to talk to each other, which was insane to me. How do you explain to a two year old that she can't speak to her sister? Needless to say, we did anyway.

I made a few changes while in Miss Birdee's care. She was hard to convince, but I was a very persistent kid. My favorite television show, at the time, was Lost in Space. It came on at 8:00PM, our bedtime. I kept at her until she finally let us stay up once a week and watch it. My mother always let us have a snack in the evening. She would either make popcorn or we could have an apple or orange. Miss Birdee decided that was a good idea, too. These small changes meant a lot to the other kids. Something to look forward to. I made some friends in the process.

My friends were Cindy, age 15, and Agnes, age 13. We would sit out in the yard and discuss how much we hated the home. I came up with the idea to run away. Lyn seemed happy with her new caregivers, so I didn't feel guilty about leaving her. We plotted and planned for several days, when one day I noticed this girl listening to us. Nancy had heard everything. We decided to take her with us. Didn't really want to, but couldn't leave her behind to tattle. She didn't resist. Probably to scared to say no.

We stashed everything we wanted to take with us under our beds. There was a fire escape outside the window in the bathroom. We would go down that in the middle of the night, when everyone was asleep. As to where we would go, we decided Sandpoint, ID. Cindy's mother lived there and Cindy said she would take us in.

The night arrived. Around 1:00am we grabbed our stuff and crept into the bathroom. We were all wide awake, scared and excited. Quietly, we went down the fire escape. Then, we started running. All the way to the funeral home, about a block away. We stopped here to put our shoes on. We hadn't put them on before, because we were afraid they'd make to much noise and wake up old Miss Birdee.

Now all we had to do was make it through town and across the Memorial Bridge. I had decided a Wednesday night would be safer. Less cops out looking for drunks, than on a weekend. We stayed in the shadows all the way to the bridge, then crouched down and ran like crazy little maniacs to the other side. We made it, so far so good.

Next came the Lewiston Hill. Should've been named the Snake Hill. From a distance, that's exactly what it looked like, a snake winding up the hill. We started climbing, still high on adrenaline. About halfway up, still no sirens or sounds of alarm coming from the valley, we decided to hitchhike. Not many cars out this time of night, so we walked another good mile before one finally came along.

Put our thumbs out and lo and behold they stopped. Told Nancy to keep her mouth shut. Didn't want her spilling the beans. It was a young couple, not much older than Cindy. Asked where we were going. We said, "Sandpoint". Well, they were going to Spokane, but they could give us a ride to the top of the hill. We said, "Great!", and piled in. It was a short ride, maybe 15 minutes. Told them, "Thank you.", and put our thumbs back to work.

A few cars passed us by. I heard a truck coming. My last stepdad was a trucker, so I felt I knew more about the trucking world, than my companions. I was such a wise 10 year old, thought I was anyway. We waved our arms, honked the imaginary horn, all sorts of weird gyrations, to get this guy to stop. It worked. Mac pulled over. He was hauling logs. We told him where we were going and he said, "I can get you part of the way there. Jump on in." The other three crawled back into the sleeper, I took gunshot. He started asking us questions. "What are you girls doing out here so late?" We told him we were going to Sandpoint to visit Cindy's mom. Didn't explain why in the middle of the night. "How old are you girls?" We had already decided earlier to lie about our ages. Cindy, became 16, Agnes,15, Nancy and I became the ripe old ages of 13. He just smiled. He knew fairy tales when he heard them. After all, he was a trucker.

As I sat there, I spied the most beautiful hardhat I'd ever seen. It was dark purple with gold flecks. I picked it up and was looking at it. Mac asked if I'd like to wear it? I said, "Sure." Wore that thing for the rest of the ride, taking it off once in awhile, just to look at it. Bouncing around, happy as pie, we were all yakking at once. Then, I saw it. A big, shiny, metal hook. Mac's left arm was a hook. For a brief moment, my imagination ran wild. I saw all of us skewered on that hook. He saw me looking at it and explained he lost it in a farming accident, when he was a kid. Made it a little hard to drive sometimes, but he knew how to adapt. I relaxed, but still kept a wary eye on him. He didn't try anything and I was glad.
He stopped at a burger joint and bought us all something to eat. This is where we parted. Told us to be careful and headed off down the road. Time to catch another ride.

We stood out by the road waiting for a car to come along. Soon enough one did. We all stuck our thumbs out and they pulled over. Running up to the car, I realized it was three boys. Wasn't crazy about this, I was afraid of boys. We took the ride anyway. They told us they were heading to Sandpoint. On the way there, they decided to make a pit stop. At a cemetery, of all places. I figured they just needed a pee break. Two of the boys took off with Cindy and Agnes. I thought,"Oh great, a little love between headstones." I looked at the kid left behind, then Nancy, and said, "You can have her." He climbed into the back seat with Nancy. What I didn't tell him was we sometimes called Nancy, spaghetti breath. That girl had the most foul smelling breath. Don't know if she had bad teeth or what, but her mouth was rank. He got close to her, sat back and said, "Let's just talk." Inside I was laughing hysterically. Finally, the others came back and we took off.

They took us right to Cindy's house. Her mother was very surprised to see us. We were all tired, so we went to bed. Awoke to the police, there to haul us off to jail. Cindy's mom had turned us in. Went to the courthouse and met the judge. She was a very nice lady. Took us out to lunch, before they put us on a plane for home. My very first plane ride. I loved it. Sat by a window. It was beautiful.

Back at the home, Nancy and I were treated with kid gloves. We didn't get in any trouble at all. Cindy and Agnes was a different story. Since they were older, everyone figured they were the masterminds behind our little adventure. Little did they know it was me.

About a month after this Lyn and I got to go home. I was so happy to get out of there. My mother never mentioned my running away, so I never brought it up. I later found out why.

The home called and said we had left some clothes there. My aunt went to pick them up. While there, one of the staff mentioned that she was so happy nothing happened to me while I was gone. My aunt said, "Gone where?" Apparently, the home had forgotten to inform my mother. My aunt came back and told her. My mother turned to me and said, "If I'd known you'd run away, I would've left you there." It was as if she had punched me in the stomach. I will never forget those words. She never asked why, what happened while I was gone, nothing. The next time I ran away, it was from home.

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