The Escape

His heart was beating out of his chest as he ran to escape himself. He knew he had to keep going for another few hours before he would be safe. Nick wasn't running from the law, a monster, or an axe murderer. He was running away from himself, and from the place that had contained him for far too long. Riverbury, Massachusetts, was the place that had trapped him for the longest twelve years of his life. But that ended now. He was running to his friend's lake house in southern New Hampshire. Once there, he could escape to the airport the next morning.

No one knew of Nick's escape except for his best friend, Oliver Rothschild. They had been friends since their very first day of first grade, and they hated Riverbury with a passion. They had been plotting to get out for years. And on this raw, muddy March night, Nick finally reached his breaking point. He wouldn't stay in Riverbury another minute.

"Oliver, I've gotta get out. Tonight. Send me the address, I'll be there in an hour." The line clicked. Oliver immediately hopped in his family's Yukon and started the drive while his best friend madly threw some clothes into a suitcase along with his phone charger, headphones, wallet, and sheet music. Grabbing his guitar case, he tiptoed down the stairs, slipped out the door, and then began sprinting north, far, far away from the place that had become his personal hell.

Miles later, the lights of the Rothschild's lake cottage beckoned to him through the white-shuttered windows. Nick threw open the door.

"Oliver! I made it "

"Nick...What's your plan?"

"I see you're not beating around the bush. Well, college acceptances come out in a week. I'm really hoping I got into UCLA, and if that dream doesn't come true, I'll get a job and start working."

"So you're leaving, waiting for a college acceptance letter that may not be an acceptance, and then trying to get a job in a state with a 7.4% unemployment rate without a college education or high school diploma? Okay, buddy. What else you got?"

"You always were a pessimist, Rothschild. But I called my family friends from when I lived in Cali. They said they'd let me stay with them."

He sighed, "Ah, I can just smell the ocean air! Imagine strolling around outside, palm trees instead of snow, free of all the social expectations and burdens of this jail!"

"I'm all too jealous. But what are your parents going to say? Especially when you tell them about UCLA?"

"They'll just have to understand that their son will not be going to Brown, no matter what. I'm my own person, and I don't belong in Riverbury or at an Ivy. So I'm forging my own path. I'm spent and have an early flight. Thanks for all your help, Oliver. Really. I'll find a way to get you out as soon as I can. Promise."

"I'd appreciate that. Goodnight, Nick. I hope you find everything you've wanted to ...and more. They embraced, and both of them could feel the trepidation, tension, and thrill that mingled with the smell of the dusty cabin and the courage necessary to break from the mold

Before either of them could say anymore, or God forbid, cry, Nick ran upstairs and disappeared into a dark, peaceful sleep.

BEEP BEEEP BEEEEP BEEEEEEEEP

"Ugh."

Nick rolled out of bed and raced to get himself ready for the day ahead. He watched the trees turn from green to gray as rural New Hampshire slowly morphed into the urban jungle of Boston. At the airport, Nick assumed all the responsibilities of a grown man, handling every situation with grace and ease, even helping the elderly couple who didn't understand the purpose of the newfangled security procedures and not fretting about the flight's three-hour delay.

It was finally time to board the plane. Nick took his window seat in the back row, put his headphones on, cranked the volume, and tuned out the world around him. As the plane took off and soared over Boston and the suburbs, he reminisced on the past twelve years. There had been good times, but Nick had had enough of the "vanilla" people whose sole purpose was to follow the upper middle class norms. He was done with the kids that seemed like model students but went into the city on weekends and got so drunk they couldn't even remember their address, yet if he forgot one minor homework assignment the teacher just hung her head and asked him why he didn't try harder to remember these things. The expectations of this "perfect" community, his parents, and Riverbury Country Day School had gotten to be too much. There would be no more talk of recruitment, the Ivy League, or how to blend in with everyone else. All he had was his guitar, some clothes, and a one-way ticket to Los Angeles, and that was all he ever wanted.

As the melody to his favorite song floated through his headphones, his thoughts began to drift towards the new beginning ahead of him. His life was now a lined ivory page in his notebook, a story just waiting to be written. He could be whoever he wanted to be, he could make his own choices. It was finally okay to let the true Nick Clements shine in the screenplay of his life, instead of being relegated to the status of an extra. He stepped off the plane into a gray, rainy day in Southern California, ready to throw himself at whatever came his way.

Despite the clouds, his world shone brighter than ever before.