I wake up to the smell of bacon, already picturing Sawyer munching on it and asking for some more. I laugh to myself and decide that it’s time for me to get up as well. But before I can get up, my bed dips beside me and before I can comprehend what is happening my little brother Sawyer pounces on top of me. “Gotcha,” he says while laughing and trying to tickle me. I glare at him and he suddenly stops. Then he yells, “Bet you can’t catch me sissy,” as he sprints off me bed. I throw my covers off of me and run after him towards the kitchen.
I shake my head vigorously trying to get rid of the memory. Why can’t I just forget? Why do I have to remember? Why does my head keep replaying that day over and over again? My eyes fog up as tears start filling them up. “No,” I whisper to myself. “No, no, no,” I say again as a rebellious tear slowly makes its way down my cheek. I don’t want to cry my sorrows out all night. Not tonight. So I decide to do the only thing that numbs me from the pain. I throw on a pair of black leggings and a tank top and quickly slip on a pair of jogging shoes.
I slowly open my door and quietly and slowly make my way down stairs. I open the front door and shiver as the cold December air hits my bare arms. But it doesn’t stop me as I quietly close the door behind me and sprint off my driveway. Running makes me forget everything. It makes me forget why I’m in a new town full of strangers. It makes me forget why I don’t trust anymore. It makes me forget my mom’s cold icy stare. It makes me forget the pity in everyone’s eyes. But most importantly it makes me immune to the pain and guilt I feel everyday. It makes me feel empty which I’m more than ok with it. So I run. Run. Run. Run. I keep repeating to myself to run over and over again, so I can forget, so I can feel numb, so I can’t feel a thing. I become so lost in thought that I don’t see the headlights approaching me. I don’t hear the beeping sound of the horn. I don’t hear the screeching sound of the tires trying to come to a stop. I don’t smell the sound of burning rubber. I don’t feel pain as I topple onto the car and finally back on to the road. I did it. I don’t feel anything.