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by Danae Vogiatzi

In my pocket, I had a candy wrapper, a ticket stub, and my uncle’s credit card. And I was running away. I know what you are thinking: Michael, that’s what you bring with you to start a life in a new town? How exactly is a Twix bar’s wrapper going to be of benefit? To be blunt, it won’t. If you haven’t already figured it out, I didn’t really think this decision through.

I am currently traveling one way on a train to anywhere but my hometown. I look kind of ridiculous, wearing my tuxedo on my way to nowhere in particular, and I am starting to regret my decision to leave right after junior prom. But once an idea enters my brain, it doesn’t leave. I’m stubborn like that. To be honest, stealing my uncle’s card was probably the only thing that might be beneficial. I’m feeling a little guilty about it, but again, I didn’t think the decision through. I am sitting in the very back of the train with my head against the window, looking outside at the passing scenery. And I am thinking. The past week has been absolute hell and heaven at the same time and considering everything that happened I am glad to be leaving. Not prepared, just glad.

Monday morning, I walked into school and everyone’s eyes were glued on me. That was a first considering that I don’t really have any friends and not a single soul in the school gives a shit about me. I learnt the reason behind all this sudden attention later on that day. I walked into class, and I swear, everyone turned to the person next to them and started whispering. For the next few hours, I could just feel everybody’s stare like blades against my skin. The entire day I had this unsettled feeling that I couldn't shake. Like an itch you can’t scratch. During the break I went to my usual spot under the bleachers, where cigarette butts were scattered all over the dirty floor, ate my usual lunch (a tuna sandwich with mayonnaise) and as always, lit up a cigarette. I smoked half of it before I was interrupted by the voice of a girl who I think is named Samantha.

“Principal Haynes wants to talk to you in his office, ” she said. I couldn’t figure out why he would possibly want to see me since I never got into any trouble. I was too lazy to try to piss off anyone at that hellhole we call a school.

I followed the girl like a lost puppy. Walking into the principal’s office I felt the look of doom radiating from his eyes. I sat down. Apparently, somebody had informed him that I was in possession of narcotic substances with the intent to use and distribute them. Now that’s crap, because (a) I wouldn’t want any kind of interaction with the jerks that crowd the school, and (b) I didn’t have any drugs in my possession at that particular moment. In fact, I had not come in contact with any drugs since the week before, when I finished the last of my supply. After hearing all that (I left out the part about me actually doing drugs) he let me go saying that this isn’t over. What an idiot.

After entering home that day and taking one long look around the trailer that me and Uncle Jimmy were sharing, an idea came to mind. What if I actually did this? I mean, what if I actually did sell drugs at school? Our quality of life would improve drastically. Currently, we live in a trailer the size of a very large bathroom. It was dirty since none of us ever cleaned up after ourselves and every table surface was covered in empty glass bottles. It’s not like he could actually find life’s true meaning at the bottom of one of them, but he didn’t seem to be willing to stop trying. As you can imagine, the smell of our humble home was not very pleasing either. It reeked of stale alcohol, weed and aftershave. But we somehow still lived in it. I don't know whether we did that by choice or because we felt that this was the life we deserved, but somewhere along the line that dilemma seemed to fade.

I called Fez my drug dealer and made an arrangement. He supplied me with enough product to help cover our electricity and water bill. I had missed warm showers. The next two days, Tuesday and Wednesday, were pretty amazing. I made sure to spread around school that the rumors about me were indeed true, and that if anyone wanted a little piece of the action, they could find me under the bleachers at lunch. It is impressive how many people want either a break from this filthy world we are living in or a little something to help with the anxiety of upcoming exams. In two days, I was sold out of everything, and I was holding more cash in my hand than I had had in a while. I decided to transfer that money to my uncle’s credit card without telling him because, (1) If there was any spare cash laying around, he would use it all on booze, and (2) If he knew that there was money on his credit card he would use it all on booze.

Now Thursday is when things started to go south. Apparently when principal Haynes said ‘this isn’t over’ he actually meant it, because I walked into school that Thursday and immediately a pair of strong hands tackled me from behind and pressed me against the lockers. The bastard had actually called the cops on me. Like drug use on the school premises in a small town was something completely unheard of. They searched me and obviously did not find a single gram of anything illegal. But from the way that they were looking at me, I could tell that they would keep their eyes fixed on me until they found a reason to bust me. I honestly look like the kind of person that cops hate and would find suspicious. I look like the outcast, the person that doesn’t quite fit in. The kid in the baggy, old clothes that is either a genius or a school shooter. But I’ve learnt to not judge others by the way that they look. When it comes to judging I pretend to be blind, but I’m not stupid.

Today was junior prom. I had brought a pretty ridiculous amount of narcotics to sell knowing well enough that by the end of the night it would all be gone and I could be a few thousand dollars richer. I didn’t care about the cops, in fact I didn’t even think about them. Call me risky but I need that warm shower. As the night progressed and my pockets got lighter while my wallet got heavier, I noticed more and more lights shining outside the school. In the beginning I thought that it was just the aesthetic lighting, but upon looking outside the window I saw that about five cop cars were parked outside the

school as if waiting for the dance to end. I didn’t even have to think about the reason why they were there. They were obviously waiting for me, only this time if they searched me they would find about one and half grams worth of reasons to put me in juvie.

I knew I had to get out of there. So I snuck out the back door. I stayed low and I ran. I felt the panic starting to slowly boil inside me as I approached the trailer. I grabbed the first thing that I saw in front of me as I entered the kitchen (a Twix candy bar) and my uncle’s credit card. The money was mine anyway. It could help him pay for a rehab program, but at that moment I didn’t really care about anybody other than myself. I went to the train station and booked a ticket without even looking at the destination. I had to get out of there. I couldn’t go to juvie, not again. People are expected to learn from their mistakes and not repeat them, but I am a teenager. I still have a long way to go. This stage in people’s lives is very uncertain, awkward and just plain difficult. I mean seriously, we are expected to make so many important decisions with no experience and no knowledge of what life is actually like. It's so messed up.

Life is messed up lately. There are just too many injustices and flaws in our world--people shouldn’t even pay attention to my stupid life choices. But hey, I wasn't the one who built this system, nor am I the one who will bring it to the ground.

Waiting for my train while eating my candy bar I didn’t think of anything. It was like my brain had gone completely silent from the adrenaline, the pills I had swallowed, and the weed I had smoked. I felt safe when that happened. At peace. It is the only way that I can make the world seem just a little better in my head. Seem like it's washed in that perfect light that just makes everything look a bit more beautiful.

I almost didn’t notice when the train stopped in front of me. I boarded it and picked a seat from all the empty ones. And that was when the thinking started. After a few hours, the train stopped. I walked to the very front to find the driver. He was a fat, bald and sweaty man around sixty that reeked of smoke. “Excuse me, where are we?” I asked him. It turns out that we had stopped four towns away from where we started. “Have a good night sir” I wished him.

Stepping off the train I turn and watch the doors close. And you know how I feel? I feel indestructible. I feel like if I were to get shot at this exact moment I would live. Nothing and no one can stop me. I am the king of the world. Again, it could be the drugs doing all that thinking but I feel pretty damn powerful. I walk out of the train station and inhale the night air. The rest of my life waits in front of me. And I start walking into a town I do not know with nothing but a candy wrapper, a ticket stub, and my uncle’s credit card in my pocket.