How to be Forever Alone [#Wattys2020]

30.

This is it! This is how I die!

The connections I was making almost overpowering every cell in my brain. Things that seemed too minuscule and insignificant just keep pilling up.

Flint moving out? And I know he said that we were impeding on his life, but it couldn't be the only reason.

He must know?

If he weren't mad at me, I would ask him... Actually, if I weren't mad at him I would ask him. His whole reasoning for this feud is stupid. He's the one who told me to go on an adventure.

"You didn't think of even giving us any kind of sign that you were okay!" he said.

If he would of just-

It makes me mad to recall his words. All the blood in my body rising up to my face, it's colour changing from my pale tanned skin to red as bright as the plush heart Chase got me for Valentine's Day in tenth grade.

Chase...

I knew if I couldn't talk to anyone else, Chase would be there.

My phone was in my pocket, so I grab it and dial his number. I felt horrible for calling so early in the morning, but I wasn't sure what else to do.

It keeps ringing and for a second I was certain he wouldn't answer, but on the other end, I finally hear the voice of a groggy nineteen-year-old boy.

"Hello," he says, probably just waking up.

I hesitate for a second, trying to compose myself.

"Chase?" I call out unconfidently.

"Claire?" he perks up.

I hear him shuffle around on his bed sitting up.

"I thought I'd never hear from you again," he says snickering.

My breath his huffed for a second, "You too? Are you mad at me?"

"Of course I'm not mad at you." he replies, "Why? Who's mad at you?"

In my mind, I wonder if I should be honest or if I should just keep my distance from the truth, but I know he knows something isn't right for me to be calling him in the morning.

So, I let everything out. I almost thought I might breakdown and cry, but I stop myself.

I tell him about my mom and my brother both being mad at me for supposedly not letting them know how I was doing, although I know very well that I sent them an email. But here I am mad at both of them and they're clearly both mad at me. And I tell him about Rick and all the evidence I had gathered up to prove he's romantically involved with my mom. It's not like she was ever denying it either.

And...

"You sound like you still have something on your mind." I hear Chase chuckle.

You know he's not wrong...

"Claire?" he asks again.

Snapping back to reality, I reply as quickly as possible, "Yeah- I do..."

He sounds concerned, almost as if he were gripping the side of his bed, "Did something happen?"

"Well..." I get out before trying to calculate how to explain it to him.

"Since you're being quiet, I assume there is something," he says half-heartedly waiting for my response.

I'm still completely voiceless and the silence I've created isn't making any of this better.

"Well if you can't tell me over the phone," he goes on, "...you can come tell me in person."

In person?

I've been at home for maybe a couple hours at this point, I knew I couldn't just leave. I have barely returned my room back to its messy normal self, my bed is the only thing I've really touched so far.

Everyone knows that I can't stand my room being crisp and clean and obviously my time away from home allowed my mom to destroy my vision of a perfect relaxing space.

It's as if I haven't even been home yet.

Claire, NO! Are you insane?! Please don't do what I think you're about to do!

"Chase?" I make sure he's still on the other end of the phone.

"Yeah?" he replies.

I take one deep breath, "I'm coming. I'm coming to Sudbury."

That's it, you're officially crazy.

My consciousness was clearly done with my rash decisions. If it had its own pair of arms, I'm sure they would be up in disagreement before slapping down on to its thighs, just like mom.

"Great!" Chase cheers, "You can stay at my place."

So now I've got to plan my escape.

I stare at my reflection in the small mirror on my wall above my dresser, dare I say one of my mom's antique dressers that she put in my room.

"This is who you are Claire." I tell myself, "You asked who you are and this is it. You're a rebellious, stupid girl and thank god you are, cause it wouldn't be an adventure otherwise."

Okay, this is it.

"So, this would be the best moment for some sort of planning montage, but you don't have the time." I shake my head, "Let's make this clean and simple. You grab your bag-"

It suddenly hit me that my bag wasn't anywhere beside me, it wasn't anywhere in my room.

Shit... ummm.

It's still outside on your driveway.

At least it's on your way out.

I keep going, "So, you bust down those stairs, out your front door, grab your bag and make a run down the street for the Greyhound station."

Great plan?!

I sit down on my bed, one last time, and make sure my shoes are tied on tight. Next, I look around and see if I need anything else from my room.

Nope, nothing.

One foot at a time, I get up and place an ear on my bedroom door to see if I could make out any sounds coming from the hallway. And luckily I couldn't pick anything up.

You've got this!

Slowly and carefully I open my door and take a second to blink to be certain I wasn't dreaming. And then I make a run down the hallway and then the stairs. I notice the broken glass still splashed everywhere, but I couldn't spend a minute paying attention, I just had to continue, not give up.

"Claire?!" my mom calls, standing up as she sees me dash across the foyer.

I'm out the door when she tries to come after me, but my legs wouldn't fail me, I wasn't going to stop.

I take hold of my bag and fling it to my back as fast as I could and I turn off down the road.

"Claire!" I hear mom scream after me, finally stopping to catch her breath.

And so here I am running down an empty street passing by the patches of grass burning off the morning dew and I feel...

Alive!