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Lost :: Chapter 2
There were at least 4 squad cars parked in front of the house. I saw my grandmother on the porch, looking extremely pissed. Forget worried or maybe even concerned. How dare I have the audacity to do something of my own will.
I squared my shoulders and started walking towards the door, trying to pretend I didn't notice the police officers, and almost made it by Judith, but she grabbed my knapsack and I slipped and fell on the ground. Tears threatened to spill from my eyes, but I blinked them back ferociously.
"Who do you think you are?" she snapped. "I had every dispatch in the county out looking for you, and here you are, marching back in like you're the Christ!"
"If you didn't keep me pent up in there, then maybe I wouldn't feel the need to lie to you!" I shouted, standing up and angrily brushing the dirt off my bottom. The closest police officer snorted as if to make some sort of generalization about stupid teenagers. I glared at him, and he pretended I didn't exist.
"Well, she's back safe and sound, Ms. Young. I think we're done here." He motioned for the other officers to head back to the station and I heard one of them call to the headquarters to call off the search. Judith went back into the house and disappeared into the study. I followed her inside but went up the stairs and into my room.
I flopped onto my bed and stared at the ceiling. The tears I'd fought earlier rolled down my cheeks. My perfect night with Daniel was ruined, and I would probably never see him again. He'd be waiting for me in the cabin every night, until he finally realized I wasn't coming back. Then he'd forget about me.
I heard footsteps coming up the stairs, and I turned to face opposite my door. The steps stopped at my doorway, and I waited ten minutes before she spoke.
"I don't know what to do with you." She sounded weary. Very uncharacteristic.
"Give me freedom," I choked out, in between quiet sobs.
"That's impossible, for reasons you can't understand." Her words were condescending and clipped. I sat up to face her.
"Why don't you give me a chance? It's my life! I should be allowed to make my own way! I don't know anyone else my age who suffers like this!"
A pause. Then she turned and left my doorway without saying a word. Frustrated, I threw myself back onto the bed, and caught sight of my bag by the door where I had tossed it. Getting up, I looked through it and saw the paperback. Looking at the title sparked an idea in my head.
The book was On The Road, by Jack Kerouac.
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