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I idolized her to the point of absolute obedience. Her name was Tiffany; I don't remember ever learning her last name. Honestly, I don't care enough to try and find out. I met her within the first week of seventh grade. I moved into my grandma and grandpa's old house just that summer. I was really nervous about going to a different school again. I didn't like change back then even if it was improving change.
Tiffany was in the same grade as me. She had long beautiful hair that went just a little past her shoulders. Bright blue eyes and a soft face structure hid the hard, cold attitude that she always had. Tiffany never wore make-up; she never needed to. Her bones seemed like they wanted to burst out of her skin. She watched her weight like a rabid monkey.
Anyways, she went to the same bus stop as me and my sister, Beth, who is 15 months older than me. The house she lived at is still across the street and around a corner from my home. In fact, now that someone else has moved in, the building has never looked better. When Tiffany lived there the chores rarely got done, much less yard work. The outside paint pealed like it wanted to run away from what was inside. The fence around the yard molded from many, many years of abuse and lack of treating. I don't even want to mention the inside of the house. It seemed to me like they had a vendetta against lighting, not to mention a bucket of water with a rag and some elbow grease.
Tiffany slowly brainwashed us, my sister and I, through most of that school year. It was a few months until the end of the school year when she took her control over us to the next level. It was a bright, hot day which is odd for
We went around old DuPont, doing misdeeds. We tried to slash people's tires with old, rusty switch blades that Tiffany just "happened" to find in her house. We actually succeeded to slash one tire of an old yellow wagon. The moment the blade pasted through that last layer of rubber, a huge burst of air came out of the tire with such force that Tiffany ended up being thrown on her back to the gravel. Then we went to slash the tires of a car from the '60s parked at the side of the street. The rubber tires were too thick for it to work, though. We get up soon after starting. After that, Tiffany got bored with trying to disrupt the old town and decided we should go into trails.
We went with her even though our grandmother took us walking through them for most of the time we lived there. About half way through one of the trails, a fire hydrant was placed to help firefighters if one started. Tiffany thought by cutting the cord that connected the cap to the metal of the hydrant would cause trouble later. Working on cutting the cord took about 15 minutes before we gave up. Our cruddy blades barely did any damage at all. We'll never know if it really would have caused trouble. We spent about an hour on the trails before we got to one that my grandma did not take us on. At the time, we thought it went on forever. I found out later, by retracing the steps I took that day that it indeed did not. In fact, we had been only a mile away from the trail end.
There at that half way point, Tiffany stopped us from walking and stated, "Hey, how about we run away." What she really meant was, "Hey, why don't you run away and I can sit back and watch." I should have said no. My sister should have said no. Becky should have said. It took a split moment, but we said sure. I was the first one to say it.
"Well, first thing we need to do is change your guys' appearances. Any suggestions? No? Ok, how about we cut your hair first. Who's up? I can't do it because I got to stay here and cover for you while you run."
She chose to start cutting Beth's hair first, the only one in the group who had trouble growing out their hair. She started ripping at my sister's hair with her even more dulled switch blade. She didn't get very far.
"That's not working. How about one of us run ahead to get stuff from your house, Beth. We guys go camping a lot, right?"
I agreed. So, I ended up running most of the way back to the home that I was about to run away from. My brother was home on my mom's computer. I had to work around him while I sneaked about the house gathering camping items. I started with getting the sleeping bags out from my parent's closet. By the time I found the three needed, Tiffany and the others had gotten to the house. We through the sleeping bags that we were taking out my parents’ window. It had been a lot of work to get the screen out first.
From there, we went about gathering candles from the house. We found matches with the candles that were in the yellow hutch that has been in the family for over 100 years now. We put can food into my old blue backpack and placed a single can opener into it. I ended up having to carry it. While we were gathering things that we would need, Tiffany said that we should take our birth certificates so that Beth's and my parent's couldn't prove that we were born. That would be the biggest mistake that we did when my sister and I followed whatever Tiffany said. Beth and I remembered mom fussed with a purplish-red briefcase every now and again. Whenever we asked her what was in it, she would say the same thing, "Important documents." Tiffany believed that the briefcase had to be where the certificates were. Being as her slaves that we were, we took the briefcase.
With our few belongings gathered, we settled to fix our last problem before we left to Tiffany's house, my brother, AJ. It wasn't hard to convince him that we going out for a walk, in fact, that was all we had to say. Tiffany had a small shed that we went into to hide from her parents who were at home. It was there that Tiffany cut away Beth's, Becky's, and my hair with scissors that she found. Beth had her hair cut slightly below her ears and before mine. Tiffany sent her out with some of the things to find a place in the woods. Then it was my turn. Back then, I had my hair growing for years and it was just starting to go past my shoulders. I had her cut my hair to just above my ears. At the time, I thought it was a good idea. Boy was it a huge mistake later. Then Tiffany sent me out to find Beth.
I found my sister going over the short fence behind the house and trailer. It went up to about my waist back then. I climbed over it to see if I could to begin with. I made it, but it cost me time that I didn't have. I had forgotten that Tiffany's father smoked.
Just when I was trying to get back over the fence to join the others in the shed, he came out to the front porch. I froze for 3 seconds before I took action. He couldn't see me unless he leaned over the railing to see by the side of the house. He wouldn't be able to see me at all if I got behind the trailer, I could wait him out there.
Slowly, I brought the leg that I had over the fence back. To not make a sound at that time was hard not to do; I didn't succeed in not making a sound. Twiggs snapped under the foot I had just put down. Flinching, I creped closer and under part of the trailer that hung five feet above the ground. Those actions just brought more sound, small as they may have been. If anything, I thought it would been my frightened, heavy breathing and heart beat that would have drawn attention to the side of the house. Another left rustled.
"What the hell?"
I could hear him mumbling. I heard him foot steps coming off of the porch. There was a long hedge to the right of the trailer. I inched to the less than one foot of room between the hedge and trailer. His foot steps came nearer and nearer and I was starting to panic. At some point, I just knew that her dad was where I was not but twenty or less seconds ago. My panic grew to beyond my control. What if he found me, I was thinking. Everything will be ruined and we wouldn't be able to do as Tiffany had suggested.
Running was all I could think of. You know how most people say that they run faster when they are afraid? Well, I thought so too until then. I swear, I ran with all of my might and I still felt like I wasn't running fast enough. Either way, her dad still saw me. He didn't run after me like I thought he would have. He might have, but I hadn't looked behind me to tell.
I ran past Tiffany's house and the street into the alleyway behind her shed and higher fence. I rested there to try and get my heart beat back to normal. I was praying her dad wouldn't find me there and it went through. But at a slightly higher cost. Tiffany's dad found Becky and Tiffany in the shed. I don't know how they got away, but they did. They saw me in the alleyway and motioned for me to get going with them. I took up the backpack full of food cans along with my sleeping bag and followed.
When I first saw Becky after Tiffany cut her hair, I didn't even know it was her. Her hair was cut the shortest and it made her very much like a guy. We went down a different trail to find a place to stay for the night before we fully left. It was another trail that we hadn't gone down before.
Beth went ahead of us that time. She found a nice clearing a little ways into the woods that could more than fit us in it. Tiffany left us then, it was getting dark and she didn't want her parents to get suspicious. So, it was there that Becky, Beth and I stayed until nine at night. If only we had thought to bring a tent, it would have made things a lot easier.
Instead, we curled up on the ground in the sleeping bags as the night grew steadily darker. It we lit the candles and chatted to pass away the time. It was getting cold by the time it started to drizzle. A light, on the trail, made us stop our chatter and blow out the candles. Becky was already starting to complain about how scared she was and about how much trouble she was going to be in. Only the prospect of that the holder of the light could have been a policemen.
By then, we did want to go home, Beth and I, but we were not as freaked as Becky had been. No one yelled or called. They just walked to the end of the trail, flashed the light around a little and walked back down the trail. I wanted to call out to them then, but I hadn't. Silence ruled us through the time of the flashlight. Without Tiffany there to tell us what to do or how to feel or act, Becky began to put her tears and whining to full amp. I don't know how Beth felt at the time, she was the quietest of us three, but the only reason I suggested heading back was because I didn't want to hear Becky's whining anymore. I could have spent the whole night out there, despite the danger and cruelty to my mother. I know I could have, but if I had to do so with someone whining about it, I felt at the time that we either had to go back or I would shove a sock down her throat!
By the time we rolled the sleeping bags up and gathered the rest of the things we brought, it truly was almost pitch black. What little light that the candles brought was the only thing keeping us together as we made our way out of the woods and back into civilization. I stopped counting how many times one of us tripped after about fifty.
The trek home only took eight minutes. When we got there, my mother had called the DuPont police and reported us missing. I'll never forget that moment or what I had thought at the moment. My mom stood in the doorway with the screen door open. Her hands were balled into fists and placed on her hips. Her feet were spread in the stance of someone baring a way from someone else. The expression on her face was one I wish to never, ever see again. Her eyes looked as if they were going to pop out of her head, her eyebrows were pulled back furiously and her mouth was nothing but a thin line. Absolute fury was what I saw. The policeman was standing off to the side on the house's cement porch. He was looking at us too, but his expression was of uncaring disbelief. One that spoke clearly of what he was thinking, "Typical kids." Even now, I still don't think he was taking any of what was going on seriously. Heh, typical DuPont police, can't really count on them for anything but giving parking tickets. Through that, I know and remember thinking only this, 'Ooh, she's mad...Well, at least Becky's stopped whining.’
Well, the nice policemen just gave us a warning so our little "attempt" didn't affect our records; honestly I think he just didn't want to do the paperwork. He left and we went into the house. Boy, my mom was mad, but she waited to snap. She gave us the silent treatment while Becky called and waited for her dad to pick her up. He got there within thirty minutes. From what he said and his expression, it wasn't Becky's first time trying to run away. That struck me as irritating because she was the only one to complain about being out in the woods. And she had done it before! Infuriating!
The moment the door closed behind Becky, my mom snapped. She started yelling and screaming (part of the reason why Tiffany didn't have that hard of a time persuading us). She demanded answers of who, when, why and "why the hell do something like this to your own mother!” along with “why the hell would you cut your hair like that” among others.
Beth and I answered the questions when we could, but kept silent and motionless through most of it. We lost privileges to everything and got to split all of the chores for however long mom wanted us to do them. Mom also "fixed" our hair, badly and on purpose, another punishment for us. By that time, I realized what exactly we had tried doing and how mom saw it. I didn't complain about the chores or anything from then on for the longest time. I did the chores I was supposed to without complaint and in a timely fashion. I went onto my best behavior for about half a year until things got slightly back to normal.
Beth, on the other hand, went even more rebellious. Where I learned my lesson, she had to go out and make more. The older one of us. The one, who was supposed to be making an example for me, was going out of her way to make things worse. In fact, I ended up having to do all of the chores for the longest time because she wasn't keeping up her end of the punishment.
When mom found that out, though, man, she was madder than when we did the run away attempt. I got out of doing the kitchen like Beth and I had agreed on. She then ended up being forced to clean the kitchen while I did everything else. In a house of five people and about five cats, the kitchen was the worst thing you could ever get to clean.
I have spent the last five years and some odd months trying to hide it. But here I am now, so close to graduation. A better person then I was then and finally willing to talk about that stupid, embarrassing 4 hours of my life. You could say I regret those long 4 hours of my life but I know it would not be true. I don't regret learning that life lesson with so little trouble. The punishment was so weak compared to the crime. I don't regret how much the attempt at running away made me grow into a better person. Nor the fact that it was the stupidest in my life.
I do regret the fact that it hurt my mom so much. That I had been so naive back then to do as one person said without question just because I wanted them to like me and think that I was cool.
So, all I have left to say is that I'm sorry to my mother and how much I hurt her, but I hope she sees me now as her darling baby girl who learns from her own and other's mistakes.