End of the Run
By Poor Christopher
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The people around you really aren’t your friends. They just pretend they are. They want something from you. What is it? They are coming for you. Run. Where will you go? There is nobody out there for you. What are you going to do? Run.
You lay in bed, wide-awake. There will be no sleeping tonight. You hear their laughter echoing through your head. You wish they would stop. They won’t. You can’t block them out. Sweat drips from your forehead; you are exhausted. Fall asleep.
The kids at school are laughing at you. They try to hide it. You walk from class to class, people are always watching you. You cannot escape their eyes. The eyes are always on you. Why do they watch you? Run.
You wish Mom were still here. You remember how it was before she left. Dad said she was in Heaven looking down at you. You would rather her be there. Dad is too busy for you now. His job and his new girlfriend are all that’s important to him. Run.
Where are you going? The sky is getting dark. You are afraid of the dark. Mom always said bad things came out at night to come for children. You don’t believe in that type of thing anymore. Turn the corner. Where are you going? You go to the cemetery to sit down next to Mom’s headstone. Push open the heavy iron gates. You feel comfortable here. There is nobody to laugh at you, no eyes watching you.
You say, “How was your day, Mom?” You sit there and stare at the shiny marble. One day you will have one of those above you. Then, people can’t make fun of you anymore. There they can’t see you. You will be safe there. You won’t have to run anymore.
It’s getting late. You better hurry home. You notice Dad’s girlfriend’s car is there. Run to your room. In the quiet dark, strike the match. Light up your cigarette. You think about your day. People calling you names, teachers are yelling at you, your dad ignores you. Another great day you think. Smoke. Think of all those people who torment you. You will show them one day. Who are you kidding? You are nothing. You will never be anything. You are nothing. Put out the cigarette. Go to the desk Dad made for you. Take out the permanent marker there in the first drawer. Scribble on the wall the words that resonate in your mind. Drop the marker. Reach down and take out the bundle in the second drawer. Unwrap it. Look around. You are nothing. What are you waiting for? You are tired of running. Tomorrow the people will not make fun of you. You will show them. They will be sorry. They will be sorry.
When Dad comes in he will look at the walls. He will read the words, “RUN NO MORE.” He will cry as he holds you. He
thinks it’s his fault. The kids at school are silent. They know of their guilt. It was all their fault. You are free.
By: Poor Christopher