Thirty minutes later, Mom came home.  I waited for her in the kitchen.

“Hi, sweetheart.  How was your day?”

“It didn’t go well, Mom,” I said, grabbing her will.  An ache grew in my chest for what I knew I needed to do.

“Oh?  Tell me what happened.”  She set down the groceries she’d been carrying and looked at me.

“What happened doesn’t matter.  I need to leave.  And I need you to be okay with that.  Don’t look for me.  Don’t report me missing.”

She nodded and bent to give me a hug.

“Call me when you can, so I know you’re all right,” she said softly and gave me one last squeeze.

“I’ll try.  Tell Dad I love him.  I love you both.”  I stood and shrugged into my backpack.  “And if Penny comes around, let her know I left, and I’m not coming back.  Ever.”

The thread of her will changed suddenly.  It grew soft and slippery.  I fought to maintain my hold.

“Ever?” she said.

The thread seemed to melt away further, and I struggled to ignore how badly I knew I was hurting her.

“Mom, listen to me.  Penny knows I’m different, and she’ll do everything she can to get someone to believe her.  If I stay, I won’t be safe.  I have to leave.”  My voice broke on the last word.  Regardless, I firmed my hold on her will.

The thread stopped softening as she nodded.

“We love you, too,” she said.  Then, she left the kitchen.  I could hear her crying.

I released her will, and with nothing more than my backpack, I walked out the door.

*    *    *    *

As the sun set, I realized my mistake.  I hadn’t packed a sleeping bag or blanket.  To be fair, neither would have fit in my backpack.  Miles separated me from home, and I wasn’t about to go back.  Instead, I found a quiet tree in a park, leaned against the trunk, and dozed in the dark.

A few hours later, I woke shivering.  Silence surrounded me.  I wrapped my arms around myself and stared up at the stars.  I’d stopped asking the universe “Why?” a long time ago.  The only question I ever asked anymore was “What next?”

When I’d left home, I’d planned to hitch rides and see where they took me.  Older kids talked about hitching all the time.  It seemed the best way to disappear.  But, I had no money to feed myself.

As if the universe listened, a man walked past my spot.  I quickly stood.

“Excuse me, sir.  Would you be able to spare any money?”

When he kept walking, I grabbed his will and repeated my question.  I didn’t demand that he help me, only that he consider it.

He stopped moving and turned toward me.  He frowned slightly and rubbed his jaw.

“I don’t have much but I could spare a dollar.  Will that help?”

“It would.  Thank you,” I said, trying to ignore my guilt.  Using my ability for personal gain made me sick.  Yet, what other choice did I have?  The faster I left town, the safer I would be.  If I thought of what I did as self-preservation, it made what I was doing tolerable.

He reached into his wallet and pulled out a dollar.  I felt better when I saw it wasn’t his only bill.  After thanking him again, I left the park.

Walking kept me warm so I stayed on the move as the sky lightened.  The rising sun heated my back .  I continued to speak with people I ran into and forced them to consider helping me.

I managed to collect ten dollars before one man offered something other than money; he offered me a ride to the next town.  I gratefully accepted, and we drove west, away from Penny and my parents.

Bud was a mellow fellow who didn’t ask many questions.  He still liked to talk, though.  He’d woken up that morning and decided he wanted to visit his brother in Canada.  So he’d quit his job and gotten in his car.  He wasn’t sure if he had enough money to get there, but it didn’t seem to concern him.

The prospect of leaving the States intrigued me, and I asked if I could tag along.  He smiled, told me I was good company, and agreed to take me with him.  Over the next few days, we made our way north.

At our first stop just on the other side of the Canadian border, I told him I was ready to travel on my own and thanked him for the ride.  I couldn’t take any more of the rank smell from his hand-rolled cigarettes.

With a wave, I walked away from Bud.  I’d put enough distance between Penny and me.  Yet, every time someone glanced my way, nervousness would grip me.  A little voice told me I needed to keep moving and find somewhere to hide until Penny forgot.

Recalling her furious expression, I wondered how long that might take.

*    *    *    *

I roamed for weeks, begging for food or money and sleeping in the open.  The full bloom of summer made my nights more comfortable as did the knit poncho someone had given me.  Yet, each sunrise brought less light to my life.  How could I keep going like this?  I wanted a bed, a shower, and a real meal.  More than that, I didn’t want to be alone anymore.  I wanted a friend.  A kind soul to shelter me from the reality of the scary world I lived in.

Distracted by self-pity, I took a drink from my canteen, stood, and started walking again, paying little attention to the road.  I didn’t need to.  It was the same with every town.  I drifted in, stayed a day—any more than that drew attention to my begging—and drifted out after buying some food.  Then, I walked until I came to the next town.  Sometimes, it was the same day.  Sometimes, it took more than a day.  I figured it didn’t really matter as long as I kept moving.

Hours later, the pavement ended and turned into a narrow dirt road.  I kept walking.  It wasn’t until the sun kissed the treetops that I really looked around.  There was nothing but trees and the dirt road on which I stood.  No, not true.

A sign stood sentinel in the overgrown ditch.  I stared at it, not reading the words but focusing on the numbers.  Over one hundred miles separated me from the next town.  I turned around and looked back the way I’d come.  Nothing but the narrow road and trees.  How long had I been walking?  How many nights had I slept against a tree?

The leaves rustled in the light breeze as I stood there trying to decide what to do.  I didn’t have much food left.  The container of water I’d refilled yesterday at a creek beside the road was still fine, though.

With a tired sigh, I kept walking.

Just before dark, I spotted a trail that led away from the road.  Waist-high grass covered the breadth of the path.  No trees obstructed it, however, and I wondered if it was an old logging trail.  Nothing about it seemed welcoming.  In fact, dusk had already sent most of the track into shadow.  Yet, for some reason, I felt compelled to walk the lane as if the universe were again answering my “what next?” question.

I started forward, parting the grass.  The trail seemed never ending, and as I walked, night claimed the sky.  Only the soft glow of the moon kept me from wandering lost.

The trees ended abruptly and revealed a large clearing with several buildings.  Excitement and relief filled me.  Finally, a bed.  Then, as I studied the dark and quiet structures, a sense of abandonment touched me.  Moonlight glinted off the broken glass in a few of the windows.  Weeds crowded against the walls and surrounded the stubby porch.

The buildings were alone and forgotten, but it didn’t matter.  The largest of them appeared to have a solid roof, and that was more than I’d had in weeks.

I waded through the grass and stepped up onto the sagging porch.  Thankfully, the boards held my weight.  I reached out and pulled the latch on the large door.  The panel quietly swung open, and the scents of must and dust drifted out.  An abyss waited just inside.

I eased the backpack from my shoulders, and from an outside compartment, I withdrew a lighter.  It sparked to life on the first strike and created a pocket of light.  It was bright enough to see my way as I stepped over the threshold into a large, empty room.