it wasn’t easy. nothing about leaving is easy, but i wish it was. i regret not telling anyone, but they would’ve turned on me. i’ve tried everything to avoid it, to avoid my guilt and sorrow. leaving my past behind is a big thing to do.

i’m saying goodbye to the memories that were once made in my childhood home. i’m saying goodbye to the train tracks that i once stood on, searching for my target. it’s not like i didn’t want to do it, but it’s the guilt that follows me around. suspense and sorrow is backing my every move, and i’m terrified. every siren i hear, my heart rate increases. this town was once filled with happiness and joy, and now it’s gloomy and guilty.

if i had to choose, i wouldnt leave. it’s all my fault, all of it. i knew what i was doing and what would follow. i still regret the choice of where it took place. maybe i should’ve drove an hour or two away, so i could still live in the bright city. instead, im having to start a new life. a life that wont haunt me for my sins. a life where i didn’t mess up. i knew that if i had confessed, i would’ve been taken away somewhere and the sun wouldn’t shine.

my last choice was to be known for something i shouldn’t be known for. i would rather leave my whole life behind, no matter what happened to me. although it hurts, i know it’s the best.

i’m starting to realize that maybe i wasn’t wrong for doing what i did. i’m starting to think i shouldn’t leave. i could keep passing by my old school, where i broke my first bone. i can keep visiting my mom like i promised. i can stay here. with everyone i know.

but then everyone would know, and the whole town would crumble. it’s already in mourning , what more can the people take? if they found out, what would they do? i’d have to leave then. so why not leave now? it’s better to leave sooner before i change my mind. i start to think of all the flaws of my hometown.

i hate that it’s small. i hate that only old, white, and entitled rich men live here. i hate that the women have to cook, why can’t we be studying in school houses? i hate that i cant vote, or speak for myself, or talk to whoever i want. i hate that i don’t want to leave.

it’ll be easy, i think to myself. i get up and go in the dead of night. when the birds don’t chirp anymore, and when the galaxy is open for exploring. i will leave. i will leave my home. i will leave my mother, father, my sisters, and my brother behind me. and i won’t look back.

the birds aren’t chirping anymore. it’s a silent night, all my family are asleep. it’s my time. i steadily get up from my bed. i take a deep breath. i remember when me and an old school friend would jump around in my room, and pretend we were singers. i open the door. i remember when my old dog, tommy, broke the handle. the stairs are awfully quiet when i take each step. i remember when my father scolded my mother because she spilled juice on the 4th step. the wind is chilly, pushing my long, brown hair to the left. the trees aren’t moving, and everything is still. i feel as if time is frozen.

the door behind me shuts, and i don’t care about leaving anymore.

i’m running, and running, and running. i run for what felt like a lifetime. i need to leave. i hate it here.

finally, there’s no more buildings or shops. it’s all flat lands stretching for miles. i keep running. the whole town doesn’t know. no one will know. i’m free forever. i don’t ever have to confess or live in fear thinking i’m going to hell.

the sun is rising over the horizon, creating an orange glow. i’ve always been fond of sunrises. it reminds me of my old home. although it hasn’t been long, i miss it. i know i want to go back, but the feelings that pull me down there cannot live with me.

the birds stop chirping when i arrive to a fresh start. and that’s because a killer has stepped inside their town, waiting to find my next victim.