Twist+-+Runaway+Memories

=The Runaway Memories =

 My stepfather was dragging me down to the harbor during a misty night. My stepfather was inches away from me and still I couldn’t see him, it was too dim. He held my arms tightly; I knew he could feel my bones for that he was squeezing my skinny boned arm. It ached so much, and I couldn't do anything about it. I never understood what had happened on that day and yet I couldn't ask for an answer. It was not because my question was rejected but because I didn't have the courage to ask.

I was five on that day, too young to understand anything. But those heartbreaking memories were the reasons that kept me disturbed until sixteen. “Anthony,” the voice I would know anywhere echoed in my bathroom. “You’re going to be late, Anthony.” Alex was my stepfather; he was the only family I had. On the day we escaped from Mexico to San Francisco, Alex did every thing to protect me. He was the best thing that had ever happened to me, without him…I don’t know what I would have become today.

“I’m nearly done… Alex,” I stammered, even though I have lived with Alex nearly all my life, I still have problems saying his name. Even though Alex says doesn’t mind that, I have a feeling that he does.

Every morning Alex would beat me to the car and would be waiting for me. I attended school as usual; I seemed to slip easily into my routine when I first arrived. A routine for me seems to drag along the day very gradually. Detention is another routine of mine, but being a boy and getting detentions every lunch, to me it doesn’t seem weird. The only three friends I had were Derek, Samuel and Joe; they were my detention buddies.

I would walk home by myself every day from school because Alex couldn’t get a job. So I had to work part time jobs and tried to raise our family of two. The reason he couldn't get a job? I have no idea. I tried to start asking once but he snapped at me so fast I could hear my last sentence drown underneath his fast words.

I usually stayed in my classroom during school, not doing assessments, but trying to find out about the past. The only place I knew that might have the information, was the attic at the house. But the only forbidden place that I was not allowed to enter was: The Attic. That night, Alex informed me that he was going to the train station to catch a train to Seattle; he told me that he would be back in a week. I tried to convice him to stay but, it was no use.

He left after I went to bed, knowing that it was the safest time. At eleven at night, I got up even though I felt like I was still asleep. I walked into Alex’s room. I fell asleep onto the mat beside his bed without knowing it. After a few minutes I went back into a deep sleep and I saw once again; a picture of a young boy who looked so familiar, wailing as he was being dragged down the pavement by a huge man who was softly sobbing, down to the harbor. I realized in my dreams that that was…me.

The man’s face was covered in the shadows; I could hardly see who he was. His tears dripped one by one onto the hard cold pavement. The last picture I saw was the man holding onto the boy’s elbow with his left hand, and his right was holding onto an old lantern. They were facing a small boat. Then the picture faded, and faded, until all I could see was my familiar room that wasn’t mine, but Alex’s. I was awake. I slowly sat up on Alex’s mat, trying to remember every detail of my dreams. I glanced over to the clock. It was three in the morning. It was too early for me to get up. There was nothing for me to do. The house was too small. I decided to go back to my room while I wondered how I got to Alex’s room.

I was then truly awake; I couldn’t go back to sleep when suddenly I just had a flashback and remembered what I was trying to find out about. I jumped out of my room and ran to the attic above the kitchen. It was locked. I panicked as if I was in danger but I really wanted to learn about something that I had been trying to figure out for full twelve years. I bounced down the stairs and up to Alex’s room. I searched every inch of it for a key and found that all Alex’s belonging were GONE! I didn't pay attention to that at all but only to finding the key to the attic.

When I found it, I ran up to the attic and fell down on my butt. I started to cry because of how stupid I was. I leaned back on the cold back door and noticed an envelope. Inside there was a key and a letter. I didn't pay attention to the letter. I just opened the attic door and went inside.

Every thing was dusty with spiderwebs everywhere. There was a music box which lay in the room. I carefully opened it. The sound inside the music box played peacefully as if nothing had happened. Another envelope laid inside it, this time there was a letter which reads…  //Anthony my dear boy,

I am so sorry I have never explained this to you. It was such heartbreaking news for you to understand back then. And now because I think you are old enough to handle it, you deserve to know. In 1978 I started working for the Fullens; I was their gardener. Mr. Fullen had two wives and I fell in love with one of them, your mother. One day she looked my way and came to me. She told me help her run away; she never told me the reasons but…I guessed it was because Mr. Fullen had treated her so badly. I ran with your mother to Mexico and settle down.//

By this time tears has filled my eyes and rolled down to wet part of the letter. But still I continued to read.

//One day your mother mentioned things about Mr. Fullen in her dreams, that she still loved him. I was so angry I ……….killed her. I am really sorry son.

Alex//

I was now in tears and screaming very loud, I wasn’t the real son of Alex but of Mr.Fullen. How stupid I was.

The next day when I woke up I remembered that Alex’s room was empty, which meant that he had run away, away from me. He was the last chance of me having a family. But I cut my mind from him and started to search for my real family, The Fullens….