Where The Light Doesn't Reach

14.

Getting my stuff together was easy, seeing as all my electronics had been taken away and I don't hold any emotional attachment to most of my belongings.

I fill my bag with clothes, although with how many layers I wear it's hard to pack actual outfits. Overall there were about two and a pair of pajamas, and I somehow managed to squeeze in some other necessities.

Gray helped me out since I'm still too weak, and when he saw that I was only taking the two bags - my duffel bag and my school backpack - he raised an eyebrow as if he couldn't believe it was all I planned on bringing. I didn't say anything, and luckily he didn't pry.

"Alright, ready to go then? You don't need to leave a note or anything?"

I pause to think about it - I should probably do that.

I sigh and let him know before he moves to grab my stuff - despite my telling him not to - and he immediately offers to assist my walk down to the kitchen. Once there, I take off the notepad stuck to the fridge and write down something short and simple, hoping that my parents won't kill me for what we're doing.

Staying at Gray's for a couple weeks. Will be back soon.

-Carter

I hold my breath as I read it over, trying my best not to add "if you'll even miss me" .

Despite everything they've done, they're still my parents. It would hurt if they told me I couldn't come back after this, even if it'd be unsurprising.

After all, I'm pretty sure I mean nothing to them.

A lump grows in my throat but I quickly push it down, placing the pad back where it was and making sure it's visible among the magnets and family photos. All of them are either very old or only of Greg, the most recent being a photo they printed off from his Facebook page, a stereotypical image of him and his blonde girlfriend smiling brightly in the snow. The sight of it makes me sick, and I don't linger on it for very long before turning away.

"We can go now." I tell him, my anxiety growing the longer we stand here and allow the reality of what we're doing sink in—

I'm really leaving. Even if it's only for a short while, the idea of it is still pretty crazy to me.

I'm actually getting out.

I can only hope that I won't regret it.

Gray peers down at me in silence for a moment, probably wondering if I'm really ready to leave, before nodding with a comforting, "Alright, let's go then."

And with shaky steps, we successfully make it onto the porch, the front door slamming behind us. I won't be back for a couple weeks.

I let out a breath that I didn't realize I was holding, blinking as we start our slow pace to Gray's house, cutting across my lawn to reach his driveway. It's a bit embarrassing that he has to help me walk such a short distance, but by the time we reach his door my legs are already shaking again.

It's stupid just how weak I am.

He knocks on the door, making me nervous as I picture his mom opening it and taking one look at me before deciding I'm not worth their time. She'd be right, but the mental image creates actual fear as my heart starts to pound in time with my oncoming headache.

I shouldn't be here.

I start to rethink the whole thing as Gray grows impatient, knocking again with a huff as he glances to me momentarily. Luckily, or I guess unluckily if this turns out how I think it will, the door finally opens to reveal Gray's mom, her bright green hair pulled back in a messy bun, a colorful apron tied around her waist. The length of it is spattered in some kind of red sauce, almost making her look like a serial killer.