walking away

As a young girl I fantasized about running away and leaving the sadness in my household. I knew I wouldn’t be missed and the thought of my being away made me feel better. I never got beyond in planning the getting away part. My thoughts wouldn’t take me there, but one day my feet did. It was a crisp winter evening and I shouted through the house to know one in particular though knew my mom would hear my words, ‘I’m going for a walk before dinner.’ I had no intention of being back in time for dinner or ever, nor did I have any idea where I was going. I didn’t take anything with me. In hindsight I think I was hoping I’d just fade away into nothing, get hit by a car, or possibly rescued by my loving devoted family. I walked down our dirt road packed hard with snow. I have walked at least three miles before I hit the highway. It was dark now and I walked in the shoulder traveling in the direction of traffic. The swirls of snow on the highway were so huge I remember. When you drive they dance around in little circles made by the wind of each passing car. In reality, these small circles are at least as big as I am. I remember this the most; not that I was cold, hungry, or directionless. I had been walking for a couple hours before a car pulled up in front of me and I slowly recognized it was my mother. I got in. I don’t remember our conversation. She really didn’t yell or speak at me too much as if she knew and didn’t want to talk about it.