"At night they fly, you better run, these winged things are not much fun." – Jumanji

Finally, spring break is here! One whole glorious week away from the torture chamber called Kilsoquah High School. A week of not having to see all of the people's faces that make my life a living hell, that make it worse than it already is.  

As an added bonus, I've also got a rare Saturday off of work which just so happens to be today. I don't know how or why because I always have to work on the weekends. The stars must've aligned or something. To me, this is like winning the lottery. Well, almost.  

Even though I desperately need the money, I'm certainly not going to complain about missing work today. I'm going to have to get a second job soon anyway in order to pay for some courses at the community college, so I better enjoy what little free time I get now.    

So, I intend to enjoy today to the fullest extent; carpe diem and all that.

No slinging greasy burgers and fries, cleaning the restrooms, or waiting tables for me. That within itself is enough to celebrate. 

I smile as I see the sun shining through the window. I can't wait to get out of here.  

God...it's been a long, grueling week of testing, on top of all of the other typical high school bullshit, not to mention work. And after the long, harsh winter, a day like today is a treat, especially since this is Indiana after all. You never know what the weather will be like tomorrow.

Another unfortunate and major downside of living here and enduring the winters that we have, besides all of the cold and the snow, is gaining a few extra pounds...especially for me. As if I need that.  

So, what I have planned today will hopefully help with my new strategy to get in shape. I figure if I can do something I enjoy while getting exercise, then I will stick with it and not become bored or discouraged like I usually do. 

I'll keep my fingers crossed.

Maybe then someone will ask me out, or at least to prom. I mean, I would like to attend at least one teenage rite of passage before I graduate.

Oh, who am I kidding? None of those guys will ever ask someone like me out, the girl from the wrong side of the tracks, the misfit and outcast; the poor, white trash with a whore for a mother. Yeah, I've heard it all, been called it all.

This is why I need to get away from here for a while and enjoy the sun and the fresh air. I barely leave the house unless it's to go to school, work, the library, or grocery shopping since I rarely have any extra money to blow and no social life. Sigh...

After thinking all week about what few free outdoor options there are around here, I decided to go for a hike. Well, nature walk would probably be a better way to put it because I'm certainly not athletic enough for hiking. I enjoy sightseeing and exploring, just being by myself. It's what I'm used to.

When I saw the weather forecast last night and it said that today was going to be perfect, I was absolutely giddy because I'd be able to do what I had planned.

My mom, or Denise as I've always called her, stays over at her boyfriend's house most of the time now which is fine by me. Thankfully, he won't stay here because he thinks it's a dump and too small which he's right about that. I keep it clean, but like they say, you can't polish a turd.

It's far less stress, mess, and headache for me with them not around anyway, and if she didn't come back to get some clothes and stuff from time to time, I'd swear that she doesn't live here anymore. Of course you'd never know that she has a kid either. It's always been that way with her though.

I have no idea what she sees in him. Hell, all of her boyfriends or acquaintances have been total scumbags and losers; not that she's a catch herself, but this guy's an old, perverted creep and a tool too, not to mention the fact that he's not attractive at all. Well, unless you consider a beer gut, mullet, and a thick handlebar mustache, along with his stupid looking cowboy boots and hat to be hot. He's a real Romeo too, making her pay for everything even though he owns a big farm that his parents left him and drives a truck, making pretty decent money. 

Oh well, since she's stupid enough to put up with his shit, I don't feel sorry for her. She's certainly never had any care or sympathy for me. They honestly deserve each other.  

Denise works two lousy jobs now, finally learning what it means to make an honest living like the rest of us. She realized that she couldn't get by anymore on just her looks or lying on her back. Getting fired from the sleazy strip joint she danced at proved that to her. They told her that she just wasn't bringing in the customers anymore. I can see why because even though she's only 38, she looks pretty rough and has a nasty reputation.

She waitresses during the day at a truck stop which is where she unfortunately met her boyfriend Darryl, and at night she works at a local dive bar. She doesn't make much between the two, so she uses my support checks to buy her beloved alcohol and pot, or whatever else it is that she does, but at least she isn't stripping anymore. That was always such an embarrassment for me and still is, especially at school. 

Between her work and Darryl, it pretty much keeps her out of my hair which is a good thing. It also keeps him away too, for which I am thankful because whenever he does come around, he's always leering at me, giving me the creeps. He stops by sometimes to check up on me as a favor to Denise, as he puts it, which is total bullshit. She could care less about where I am, what I do, or if I'm even alive or not.

The first few times he came in made me nervous, so the next time I didn't go to the door. He must've got the key from my mom and barged in on me while I was in the shower, saying vulgar things. I was mortified. After that happened, I always fasten the chain lock now and prop a chair under the doorknob. 

He's never been nice to me either despite the fact that I've barely spoken to the douche in the past two years. I think he doesn't like the fact that she has a kid, although I'm certainly not a kid anymore, nor have I ever got to be one. I've never been a burden to her either, though she sure seems to think so.     

That said, this is remarkably the longest relationship she's ever had, so I bite my tongue.

She and my father, Matt, basically had a few weeks of sex and I was the result of it. He once told me that he regretted everything and that his momentary lapse in judgement led to the biggest mistake of his life.

Gee thanks, Dad.     

According to her, they met when he came into one of the many strip clubs where she used to dance at when she was young and he was here on business. She said he was hot and loaded – her words, not mine.

When she found out that she was pregnant, which I believe she got pregnant on purpose, she tracked him down through where he worked. Needless to say, he was less than thrilled. He called her a whore, told her it wasn't his, and not to call him ever again. In a way, I can't blame him, knowing Denise like I do. 

When I was born, a court-ordered DNA test miraculously determined that he was in fact my father, but it didn't matter because he told my mom that while he would pay support, he wanted nothing to do with either one of us.   

True to his word, he's stayed away, for the most part. I barely know him; he lives out in California and is an executive at some computer company. He's married and has a family of his own that certainly doesn't care for me. It probably doesn't help that not only am I'm the spitting image of him, but a reminder of a mistake. I've met his family twice, which if you ask me was two times too many. I do talk to him on the phone sometimes, usually on my birthdays or Christmas, but it's always short, uncomfortable, and awkward. 

He'll ask how life is treating me, to which I always lie and say fine, or he'll ask if I got the money he sends in my birthday or Christmas cards because he doesn't trust Denise which he's right not to. She's always kept my money, but I don't bother telling him that. It wouldn't do any good anyway. Sure, she gives me the empty cards, but they are just that – empty. They've never contained the words 'I love you', 'I miss you', 'Dad', nothing. Just plain cards signed 'Matt' that are always sent from a P.O. Box number. He's never given us his personal address...as if we could ever afford to go out to California and bother him.     

He's an asshole, but I have to give him credit because he's always paid his support, and he did buy me an old 1993 Chevy Beretta GT when I turned sixteen. He also pays for the insurance on it as long as I keep my grades up which is a huge help. Knowing how my mom is, he wanted me to be able to take care of myself. It was the nicest thing the man ever did for me.      

And it's a good thing that I've always taken care of myself and made my own way because Denise has never really helped me, although she does leave me an occasional twenty lying on the kitchen counter from time to time, but usually only when she wants something specific to eat or drink, or cigarettes. 

She keeps some of the bills paid, and I pay what I can with my meager paychecks. I live as frugally as I can by taking short showers every other day, keeping the lights off as much as possible, eating free at work, but I know we're always behind on our rent. I think the landlord only tolerates her because he probably couldn't rent this shit hole to anyone else, although I wouldn't put it past Denise to have sex with him for the rent.

We also have our utilities frequently shut off and have no cable, internet, or home phone which is why I always have to use the computer at the library. I had to get myself one of those cheap, pre-paid cell phones when I began working, so they could reach me, if needed. Not to mention that this isn't the kind of neighborhood you'd want to stay in without a way to call 911. Denise has always had one, but she's never let me use it except for when Matt calls twice a year...if she's around. 

The only reason she even keeps this house is because Darryl won't let her move in permanently or stay there when he's on the road. She doesn't even have a key to his house and probably never will. That's the one and only thing that I can say he is smart about.  

Mostly though, she's always just worried about herself or whoever her current flavor of the month is. She's certainly never had much time for me. I'm barely an afterthought. I think that after my father refused us, which meant that I wasn't going to be the meal ticket that she thought I was going to be, she had no use for me.      

I'll be eighteen soon and away from here, so I try not to let things upset me like they used to.

I shake my head to expel the thoughts of my dysfunctional life and focus back on what I'm going to do today...      

I hope the terrain won't be too challenging because I'm out of shape and don't have the best clothes or shoes, for this kind of thing.  

All I have is a pair of cheap tennis shoes and my beloved old yoga pants and hoodie thanks to Wal-Mart and Goodwill. I'll also bring my ratty, old school backpack and fill it with various things I may need for the day.

I'm going to try to enjoy myself and try not to let the stresses of my life get me down, so I'm hoping the place that I've chosen to go to will be interesting, a break from the mundane, a break from the disappointing; a break from my life, no matter how small.      

The state that I live in isn't the most scenic place, but after doing some research on the library's computer, I found a spot not too far away, only about an hour or so from here.  

I've never been to that area before even though I have lived in this state all of my life, so it should be an adventure.

There wasn't much info about it except for some random old posts and stories that sounded absolutely crazy. They are most likely hoaxes or just some superstitious old folk tales provided by the locals.

I'm surprised that there hadn't been any Bigfoot or Chupacabra sightings there too. How stupid. 

Some people and their overactive imaginations... 

After further research, I finally came across some pictures of the general area, albeit from afar, and it looked just like any other typical Indiana woods, so I decided to ignore the ridiculous warnings to stay away from there.

Whatever.

Despite those stories objective to turn something benign into something ominous to try to scare people, it had the opposite effect on me.

My interest was instantly piqued. I felt drawn to the place and still do, for some odd reason.

It's probably just the cabin fever and loneliness talking...

I honestly don't care if it ends up being the blandest place on Earth. It will at least be a change of scenery for me.   

After a breakfast consisting of a granola bar and milk, I take a quick shower and brush my teeth. I decide to go sans make-up since wearing it would be pointless where I'm going and with what I'll be doing, not that make-up has ever done me any favors anyway. So, I opt for sunblock instead. It's an absolute must for me since I'm the type that manages to get a burn while sitting in the shade.  

I slather my face, neck, and chest with sunblock, put on deodorant, and quickly dry my hair which as usual causes nothing but frizz. 

My dark brown hair is very long and lifeless...plain and dull like me, so I usually wear it up in a bun to keep it out of my face although I'll admit I'm kind of lazy when it comes to this type of thing. I guess you could say that I'm more tomboy than girly-girl. And considering again what I'll be doing today, this is the perfect option.

Once I finish getting ready, I feed a piece of bologna to Gizmo, a stray cat that wormed his way into my heart, give him some water, pet him, and then let him out before I go over the checklist of items that I need to bring.

Sunglasses ✔️
directions ✔️
sunblock ✔️
bug spray ✔️
pepper spray ✔️
flashlight ✔️
compass ✔️
wet wipes ✔️
sanitizer ✔️
my travel size first aid kit ✔️
a roll of toilet paper ✔️
and Chap Stick ✔️

Check, check, and check.

One good thing about working at a restaurant, besides the free food, is those little packets of wet wipes that they give out to the customers to wipe the grease from their hands. I always save as many as I can because they come in handy.

The pepper spray is pretty old and belongs to Denise from her former days as a stripper, so I hope it still works...I'm not about to spray it and blind myself in order to find out.

The flashlight is Darryl's; he left it here after he had to work on Denise's car one time, not that I care because it's mine now, and the rest I bought at The Dollar Tree, one of my favorite stores because I can afford to shop there.

The compass was my grandpa's, though I never got to meet him before he passed. My grandma gave it to me when I lived with her. She didn't have much, but she was always good to me. She passed three years ago, and I miss her dearly. She was the closest thing I ever had to a mother.    

After packing up the few basics from my list, I prepare myself a snack for the trip and then place a baggie of ice along with a few bottles of water, as well as my food into my small, old lunch cooler. 

Ah, my notebook! I almost forgot it.

I quickly go get it and my good pen, placing them into my backpack as well. I love to write poetry sometimes along with my random thoughts and feelings, so maybe I'll find some inspiration today.

I make sure everything is off around the house and lock up, even though there is nothing worth stealing here. I put my sunglasses on and walk out the door.

I hear the usual whistles along with "Hey! Hey girl!" and "Sup, baby?" from the thugs across the street who seem to live on their rickety front porch drinking, smoking pot, fighting, and listing to rap music. I keep my head down as always, ignoring them, and walk quickly to my car.

I unload my backpack and cooler, and then eagerly take off, gladly leaving this place behind.

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