The Summer He Saved Me
- Chapter One -
I stood on the back deck, you could see the whole beach from the house. My head phones were in, the music turned up. It was around 80 degrees but I still wore long sleeves to hide the scars. I knew I didn't belong here, I didn't belong anywhere. Not New York, or LA, and certainly not here in Florida.
Suddenly, my mom interrupted my thoughts, "Rikki, why don't you put some shorts on and take a walk on the beach?"
I just turned and glared at her. Then as she opened her mouth to say something else, I just walked out. I quickly padded down the stairs, and down the front walk, headed towards the sand.
I walked across the beach, in no general direction. It was a matter of time before my mother called my phone, asking me endless questions. I knew the best time to walk along the beach was at night. When it was cool, and I didn't have to worry about anybody seeing me or talking to me. A tradition I had created when we moved to LA was sneaking out at night, walking alone and just forgetting all my troubles. I did this almost every night, I would sneak out at about 11, then return around 1 am. New York was different, I was only 12 when we moved, the first time. When we lived in New York I was too young to know that sneaking out was the best thing to do.
Two years after we had moved to LA, I turned 14, that's when I changed. I started getting into rougher things, I snuck out, I skipped class, I started cutting. That's when I started going down the wrong path, now that I'm 17, I know I really shouldn't be doing this, but it's what feels right. I've lived in Florida for all of three hours, I can already tell it won't be any different.
That's where I was wrong, this was the summer he saved me.
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