My Life as a Runaway

When I was six, I ran away from home.

It happened like this: I got really mad at the grown-up peoples, always trying to control my life and stuff. I'd had it. That was it. "I'm running away!" I declared.

I hopped on my ride:



A tricycle much like the one above.

My blood surged with excitement as I mounted it. My feet delicately touched the pedals, and I was off!

I pedaled and I pedaled down the seemingly endless white concrete sidewalk. I came to a cross street.

Now, something should be said here about my upbringing. I may have been running away, but I wasn't taught to be stupid! I knew that crossing a street without holding hands with someone was akin to suicide, or at least a deadly crime, and I was having nothing to do with that. So, when I came to a street to cross, I did the logical thing: I turned right.

And I pedaled and I pedaled and I pedaled.

I turned right again.

And I pedaled and I pedaled.

I turned right again.

And I pedaled and I pedaled.

Things were starting to look very unfamiliar to me. It was getting a bit scary. I considered turning back. But I was tough! They'd be sorry when they found out I was gone!


I turned right again.

And I pedaled and I pedaled.

Suddenly, a road block. The Enemy [a group of grown-ups] was standing right in my path! What to do? They blocked the sidewalk completely. I couldn't storm through them- no, that was too risky. I would surely be reported, or worse. Drastic action had to be taken.

I stopped pedaling. The grown-ups glanced my direction, but were still involved in their heavy conversationing. I had to act fast, before it was too late.

I did the unthinkable. I crossed the street.

My heart was thumping so hard, I could hardly breathe for it coming up in my throat. Surely, a life of crime was my lot now. There was no turning back. Sadness overcame me as I mounted the other sidewalk via a driveway.

But- wait- was there still hope for me? What if, after averting The Enemy, I went back to the other side? Wouldn't it then be like it never happened, like I never crossed the street without holding an adult's hand?

Another split decision, and I crossed the street again. The Enemy was behind me. It was smooth sailing, now. The sidewalk was mine! Joyfully, I pedaled. I turned another corner, and...

How was it that two streets could look so similar? Why, this looks like my street, I thought. Bizarre. That looks like my Daddy's car in the driveway of a house that looks just like my house and...

Clearly, a breach in the space-time continuum had occurred. I had been gone a lifetime, it seemed, so that it was actually with much relief (and a good deal of confusion) that I pedaled up to my house, from the opposite direction from where I left it- like a mirror image or something. So strange.

All thoughts of running away had left me, now. I was hungry. Carefully, I opened the front door and slipped inside. My step-mother was cooking dinner. After a little bit of lurking and waiting for punishment for my sins, I realized- although I could barely believe it- that no one had even noticed I was gone.