Driving the familiar streets of the suburb where I live and thinking about my inevitable exit from this city, from this valley, through the mountains into the interior to arid lands. It seems my mother's mouth and recent efforts have come to bite her in the ass.
I said "Darn." 
It seems now the powers that be are aware of my efforts. I don't know for sure, only some side information that I've received from another source.
I did, however, get an interesting email from social services that gave me a case file number with my name on it.
I find that very interesting. Don't you?
I believe I've come to their attention for three reasons. One, a request for copies of all documentation of myself. Two, it's an awful lot of paperwork and three, within days my sister requested her own.  
I've also come to the attention of certain family members as well.
How I'm supposed to be ashamed of myself for putting my mother in danger? A made-up story about two Indian men climbing the wall (50ft of flat concrete straight up) to her sliding door banging on it demanding money, that I supposedly owed money to big-time drug dealers. Yes, this is the story she tells the family. Of course, it's just a way to discredit me.
Then I received another message from my mother and it said, "You're an idiot. Quit whining. Tell me how many men have you been with?" 
This is my mother, the one who nurtured me and protected me from all villains.  Oh, I'm sorry I must have dozed off...
 Driving down the street and the suburb where I live I can see the last of the seasons squirrels and chipmunks gathering up what remains of the nuts to call it a day until Spring.
Orange-red leaves twisting in the breeze soon to join their friends on the ground.
I recalled the conversation about leaving I had with my friend just yesterday.
My upcoming chapter is about the same thing.  Leaving. 
It's a compelling parallel.
But I'm used to weird things.  Knowing, seeing and feeling things that others do not.
Meh...
She's waited too long though, my sixteen-year-old self.
It's time to march on...
*****************************
I was on the beach. I'm playing volleyball, my favourite sport. The sweet salty air enveloped the ocean's breeze and soothed my soul. The ocean lifted her watery skirt and slapped the shore line cooling the hot rocks steaming in the sun.
I woke... Damn...that would have been so much better than here, so much better than this.
I resisted tears and gingerly got out of bed. I was still sore but I could at least tolerate some pressure. Today was the day I decided I was going to go see my friend from Army Cadets.  I had to try and get permission to go, ask for bus fare and get shoes on my feet that weren't winter boots. 
The one way to get bus fare and permission to go was to do exactly what they wanted me to do when they wanted me to do it. If I could anticipate it and get it done before they ordered it. That's always a plus.  If I do extra on top of what they ordered, that too is another plus.
So I did.
I went to my mother instead of my stepfather. He always said no.
I pleaded my case successfully with my mother. She agreed to give me bus fare and permission to go with instruction to be home by nine pm. Of course, it was all contingent on whether or not I could find a proper pair of shoes.
I looked through my sister's things and found a pair of her flip-flops. I showed them to my mother and she waived me off with a parting comment.
"Make sure all your chores are done before you leave young lady."
To which I responded, "Yes".
I knew what time my stepfather walked through the door. I did the quickest and best job I could, the idea being to leave before he got home.  As I was about to leave, I heard his car pull up.
"Shit," I said under my breath. I was going to have to navigate my way past him.
"Where do you think you're going?" He asked.
"To my friend's house". I answered.
"Not like that you're not. Get inside." He growled.
Every damn day always something. Never satisfied. "Fuck!" I thought. "If he wanted perfection, he should have ordered that up to begin with."
Uh oh...there's that sarcastic voice in my head again. "I'd better cool it." I decided. "If I wanted to get to my friend."
Quietly, I followed him in...
*****************************
Sitting here gazing at my friend who's across from me playing on his phone, because that's the nature of the biz these days. I am just as guilty.  Still pondering the problems of today from the problems of yesterday but still, that parallel remains...the leaving...
So let it be written...