I can't wait for school to start. Most people I know are dreading it. Especially those in my grade. It is, after all, our last year of high school, our last year of life as we know it in a sense. But I can't wait to graduate. Then I can move out of this place once and for all and start my own life.
I think I'm going to go to university in Northern Colorado. Or maybe North Carolina. Studying in Europe for a couple years isn't such a bad idea either. The farther, the better.
Ashley has told me that she'll go with me too. Going to the University of Delaware wasn't exactly her plan, but I think that I meant a lot more to her than where she went to school did when she applied.
So I can't wait for my senior year to be over and done with. I want my freedom too badly. I want to be able to live my life how I see fit and go where I want for a change. I'm sick of being oppressed by people who don't care about me at all.
That's a tantalizing thought. It hangs on the edge of my mind, just out of reach. Every now and then I get the briefest glimpse into the mysteries of freedom, but then it zooms away and leaves me cold and restrained in my reality. Again.
I know that the day where I finally get to grab this thought and fully explore its secrets is coming soon, but time seems to move more slowly as each day drags by.
Torture.
I wonder if Mom will let me eat dinner.
I wonder if Josh's friends will be gone when I get home.
I wonder if Dad knows about yesterday.
I wonder if he cares.
Stop sign, time to slow down, stop, check for traffic, go.
I wonder where I am.
I'm on a new road, I notice suddenly. To some people all of the backroads look the same. Small, winding passages through a clump of trees.
But that's not how I see them.
Each road represents a life. How green are the trees? That's health. How sharp are the turns? That's train of thought. How many houses line its edges? That's contact with the outside world.
I can go on and on, but I'm too busy taking in this new life - road.
It seems more alive than most. Deep green sycamores and pines grow along the side of it, bright orange and pink flowers bloom close to the small shoulder, and small but welcoming neighborhoods are tucked in behind the trees, nearly hidden from view. For the most part it is straight, slightly hilly, with some zigzags every now and then. Even the air smells sweeter.
I like this road.
Have you become convinced that I'm certifiable yet? Well, I assure you that I haven't gone crazy, but I just might have lost my mind.
There's a very subtle difference. Give it enough thought and it'll become clear to you as well.
As you can tell, I give everything a lot of thought. I have all the time in the world. I have a mind that can concentrate on something like driving and wader at the same time. Quite a useful skill let me tell you. But most importantly I have roads. Roads that offer me their perspective on life and how to live it. Roads that offer me countless adventures. Roads that take me away from the place I want to escape.
Roads that can be used as alternate routes home. Alternate routes that take just a smidgen longer than taking a regular highway.
The long way home... the perfect... the perfect what?
The perfect place to pull my self together after my thoughts become jumbled and discordant and start to run amok in my fragile mind kind of like they're doing right now...
"Time to go home Dana," I told myself frorcefully.
I glanced at the clock and was not surprised to see that several hours had passed since I had last looked it the last time.
5:47 pm.
It happens quite frequently actually. I get so caught up in contemplating that time seems to fade out of the picture until I manage to tear myself away from the comfort that driving brings me and face reality.
Wow that was a long sentence.
Long sentence, that's what I'll get if I come home late. Or a long lecture.
My mind began to search through the possible punishments I'd receive for coming home after 6. Well, if they still cared where I was, they'd be fairly severe.
I'd come home after 6 before, but I had known we wouldn't be eating a formal dinner then.
I don't know what we're doing tonight, or even if I'll be included.
Oh who cares!? Just go... home. Slowly.
Like I said, I'm not crazy, but maybe I've lost my mind.
chapter 8