Jed's Story *title suggestions welcome!*

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December 7th, 2012

I’ve been hanging out in the convention center and Circle Centre mall in Indianapolis. At night, I’ve managed to sleep in a room in the convention center once, but the other times I slept outside. That was not fun. I had to wear all of my clothes just to stay warm.

I know I can’t stay here forever. I bought a box of protein bars and some canned fruit with pull tabs at a grocery store, but it’s not going to last me much longer. Plus, I’m tired of walking around a mall where I can’t buy anything. I could really use some clean clothes.

I looked at the bus schedule on my phone today, and there’s a bus going to Minnesota that’s not too expensive. I think I would like Minnesota. They have the Great Lakes and everything. I think it will be good.

The worst part about running away isn’t even that my future is a huge mystery, or that if my parents cared, the cops could be looking for me.

They don’t care, so the cops are probably doing whatever they normally do, but still. It worries me. Maybe if they find me they’d put me into foster care, or force Uncle Jack and Aunt Merida to take me back, and then they’ll hate me. Neither of those can be as bad as living with my parents, right?

I don’t miss them. Or Jessika, or my friends, or getting into situations I don’t want to be in. But I do miss April, who I guess I haven’t mentioned in this journal. She’s all over my old one.

I barely ever got to talk to her, but she was so smart and so funny. Not to mention the fact that she was gorgeous. I used to see her in the halls, and sometimes she would even wave at me, though her popular friends never acknowledged me. I just wish I knew what she thought of me.

I miss Miranda taking care of me and making me feel loved. I’ve missed that for years. I miss Aunt Merida, Uncle Jack, Martin, and Matthew. I miss book club with Braeden and Trenton, even if they knew nothing about me. It was probably better that way.

I made the mistake of looking at my messenger because I have WiFi here. I had it off for a while, but I turned it back on and read a bit. Even after the catastrophe at Thanksgiving that made me finally decide once and for all I was leaving, my friends are still pranking and teasing and destroying things that aren’t theirs.

I guess I really do consider all of them my friends. In between all the times I felt hated or hated what we were doing, there were good times. And the good times were what kept me going. I really hope that someday I’ll be able to go back and they’ll have changed and we can be friends again.

Fat chance. I doubt they’ll ever change.

I’m so mad all the time these days.

It’s either that or sad.

When we were young and the worst things we did were staying outside too late, writing cuss words on the sidewalk (which I actually hated doing) and being too loud while their little siblings were sleeping… Those were the days.

I should stop wallowing in my misery and go catch that bus.

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