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I didn't know what I was expecting when I got further and further from town but the only difference I felt was oppressing loneliness. I didn't know why I would feel anything but that. I was completely alone. There was no one watching me, ready to catch me if I fell. But I never really had that to begin with. It was just an illusion that I created for myself. This time I really needed it to be real but everyone just stepped away to watch me fall to life's wolves. Now I had to stop hoping that someone that I knew would come save me. I needed to get up and fight back. My fight was leaving and making a better life for myself and showing them that one day I would be someone. I wouldn't be worthless anymore. I keep telling myself that all the way into the night.

Night fell. The darkness made everything real. I was really gone. There was no turning back for me. Every ditch, every bunch of thick bushes, and empty parks became potential temporary homes. Each time I went to settle in one of those homes, my stomach growled like a dying whale. I needed to eat first. After a little searching I found an old diner on the outskirts of a town called Latimar. This town was a little bit bigger than my hometown. We had only driven through it but it seemed nice enough in passing.

When I walked in the diner, a portly waitress stared at me with her mouth slightly opened. What was her deal? There was no way she could tell I was gay, just no way. Then I looked down and saw all the blood. In my rush to leave, I didn't take the time to clean up from my heating. I looked up at her chubby, rosy disbelieving face and headed straight into the bathroom. I didn't look around to see if anyone saw me. I didn't want to know if anyone did. It was easier to pretend the waitress was the only who saw me. I closed the light wooden door quickly and silently and locked it. A thick slime covered up the ugly orange and brown tile from the seventies which looked to be the last time the bathroom had been clean. Trying not to touch too much of it, I changed my bloodied shirt with a clean blue one. I washed all the blood off my tender face and neck with water that came out of an annoying squeaky faucet. Then I looked in the dingy mirror to assess my blows. My usually thin lips weren't swollen as bad I thought they would be considering how many times I had been punched there tonight. A cut was still oozing out small amounts of blood on my cheek. My sculpted chest and stomach were stained with new and old bruises. I had wide, tired icy blue eyes framed with short, black lashes. Blonde hair fell into my face. I was slightly more muscular for my age because of baseball and trying to fend off my dad. By most measures, I was attractive but when I saw those bruises, all I saw was ugliness. With a large sigh and one last look, I went back out into the light of the diner.

Mary, the portly red-hair waitress, was waiting for me and sat me down at the bar a few red bar stools away from a lonely looking man. He looked to be a few years older than me. Twenty one at most, I decided. He had big, sad brown eyes and long shaggy brown hair. I noticed a large scar on his left wrist. He was cute and my hormones urged me to say something to him. But then I remembered today and the rest of my life and decided against it.

Mary handed me a battered old menu. With a quick glance at prices, I ordered the cheapest thing: a kid's hamburger and a coke. I was really hungry but I didn't want to waste all my money. I still had to figure out how I was going to get to my destination. I had no idea how much cabs cost, how long walking would take or what any of the costs associated with my journey would be. She took the menu back and asked me I needed anything else.

"Ma'am, is there a cab company anywhere near by?" I asked, already knowing the answer.

"Sorry, honey but not one for fifty miles and you'll be hard pressed to get them to come all the way out here," Mary said.

"Okay, thanks anyway," I said. She nodded, looking apologetic and left.

For a few minutes, I sat there and listened to an old country song play in the background. The diner wasn't busy unlike the one back in town that was bustling food out like a McDonald's. This one had a few older couples sitting at booths, eating. Some sat in complete silence and others still seemed to have that spark. I enjoyed watching those couples the best. The rest of the patrons were people like me, loners.

"You a runaway?" the man asked, in an especially strong southern accent.

"Why do you say that?" I asked, caught off guard. Why did he care? He didn't know me.

"Young, walk in with your own blood all over you, and ordering the piece of crap burger." He said, with a slight smile at the end. His smile was....quite charming. I liked it but all I did was nod.

"What are you running way from?" He asked, prodding into my business. I froze up inside. I didn't know this kid. Why was he so damn nosy? Why can't people just mind their own business? I knew why I was so annoyed. I was too afraid the truth would pour out and he would hurt me worse than anyone else so far. Looking at the size of him, he would be able to do that easily.

"It's okay. I ran away when I was seventeen." He whispered, scooting over towards me and leaning in." He was a drunk and almost killed me when he found me with another boy from school." I choked on my Coke, shocked at that new, abrupt information. He was just like me. He understood all the hurt and pain I was going through.

"You're not a homophobe are you?" He asked, back away. His eyes grew guarded.

"No, no." I reassured him. "That's just what basically happened to me but my dad isn't a drunk, he's just a jerk." I whispered, afraid someone else would hear.

"What--"He started to ask but Mary came over and put my hot meal in front of me. The warm aroma made my mouth water.

"Enjoy, your meal." She said, eyeing the two of us suspiciously.

"Thank you, ma'am." I said, diving right in. I was hungry. I was hating how hungry I always was. Stupid boy body. It was going to tempt me to spend too much money. In minutes I was done and the man started talking again.

"What happened?" He asked. I told him everything, feeling complete trust in this total stranger. I didn't know why I trusted him so much but I figured it was going to bite me in the butt sooner or later.

"That guy made a move on you and screwed you over afterwards?" he asked, in a disbelieving tone. Yep, that about sums it up. I just nodded my head. I didn't like thinking of it. "I'm sorry uh-"

"Spencer and it's alright."

"Carl." He said, extending his hand. I shook it. A warm glow travelled through me. We talked for a while. He told me about himself. When he was ten, his mother died in a car accident. Ever since then his dad abused him. At first it was just insults like how worthless he was and that it should have been him that died instead of his mother. Then he started drinking.

"At first it wasn't so bad, you know. He only went out once a week and had a few beers but it turned into two nights, three nights until every night he was out drinking. The few beers became hard liquor." His voice trembled for a moment and then hushed. His eyes looked glazed over as if he were protecting himself from the pain while he spoke. I knew that look oh so well. I patted him on the back and gave him a few minutes to regain his composure. I could tell he hadn't talked about this in a long while. I wished I could help him but how could I? I was just as broken as he was.

"Can we talk somewhere more private?" He asked, nodding his head towards the door.

"Umm...yeah." I said, pulling my wallet and setting money down on the counter, We walked out the diner. I heard someone say bye but I was too focused on Carl. It was cooler now than before. where am I going to sleep, flitted through my head.

"My car is over here." Carl said, pointing around to the back of the diner. It was really dark back there and looked like I could get murdered and no would notice. No one would know, no one would come looking for me if I disappeared. My heart grew even heavier at that thought. After everything that had happened, it didn't matter. Anyways I didn't think Carl would do that.

"Okay." I said, nodding. We didn't say anything as we walked over to his small beat up car. His car was surprisingly clean. There was a few articles of clothing strewn across the floor board and an old pillow and blanket on the back seat. I realized that this was where he lived. I looked at Carl's darkened face and waited for him to begin. He let out a sharp breath before beginning.

"The abuse got worse. He would yell first, then he would punch me or throw me in the wall if he had the strength. Once I was on the ground, the kicking began." Flashes of my own dad beating me whatever he could get his hands on played in my head. I shivered and returned back to Carl. "He would take his empty bottles and smash them over me. A few times I went to the hospital." I saw him look down at the large scar on his wrist. That's where that one came from. "Eventually I learned to deal with it. There was a few times I had to leave for a couple of days because it got too bad but I always came back. I survived. Then I met John. He has been my only love. He loved me and accepted me unconditionally and protected me from my father. We planned our future together. we were going to leave that old dump and go to college. Possibly get married and have a family. We were going to be happy together. " He paused, briefly. I think he was gathering himself together but i couldn't tell for sure. A humorless chuckle escaped his lips. "Then my dad walked in on us kissing. We both barely got out alive. Scared, we ran away. We weren't ready to deal with all the backlash." Carl was quiet for a long time. I knew what happened. It was so scripted but I knew how real it was. This wasn't some movie that Casey had dragged me to. This was real life. But still I had to ask.

"What happened to him?"

"He died." He whispered. I didn't have the heart to ask him how he died. "You remind me of him." Carl leaned over on me. His dark brown eyes showing his brokenness. I felt his breath roll onto me. I knew what he wanted. He thought of me as John. I was the only outlet to be with John again. I didn't care about how much it was going to hurt later. Right now, it didn't seem so bad. I let him kiss me. I let his tongue slid through my parted lips and down my throat. It tasted so much better than Casey's. It was warm and delicious. I moaned as his hands slid onto my crotch. I wanted him to rip off my clothes. I just wanted him all over me. I wanted to feel him hard up against me. I put my hand on his member. He shuddered under my touch. His lips crushed harder against mine. He moved on top of me, grinding against me. Sweet damn that felt good. This was a culture shock for me. I had fantasized about my first time many times in my teenage years and it was finally happening. He took off my pants, exposing my hard on. He smiled down at it. His rough hands felt good on me. Ripples shot through me with each rub and roll. I kissed him, trying to show my appreciation as the buildup came. The orgasm rocked through me in waves. I cried out, pulling onto his hair. I heard his moans underneath mine. When I was completely done, I leaned on him.

"Your turn," I whispered in his ear. He pulled away, his eyes wide.

"No, no. Leave please." He begged. I sat there shocked. Why was he telling me to leave? He came on to me. It made no sense. Just like Adam all over again.

"Carl." I said. He leaned across me and opened the door.

"Go." He said, trembling. I stared at him for a moment, hoping he would change his mind. He didn't. I grabbed my bag and left.

He was broken. More broken than I was. I had no idea if he could be fix. Who could help him on the streets? There was no one out here willing to help him. He had been on his own for four years now. Who was going to fix me, I thought? I was just like him. At that moment I realized how much I was like him. If I didn't find my mom's family then I was staring straight into my future. I didn't want to pick up random strangers at diners and have my way with them. I didn't want to be swallowed up by pain so much that I was never going to climb out. I wanted to live my life. I wanted to be somebody so I needed to keep going. I never saw him again but he stayed in my mind for a long time.

I walked out of Latimer and for about an hour there was nothing. Absolutely nothing. Just an empty open highway with the occasional truck racing past me surrounded by a thick forest. With each passing step those trees looked like a good temporary home. Luckily for me I found a park about a half a mile away that I could rest my head at for the night. That gave me an extra boost just long enough to make it there. The park was small, only housed a few graffiti picnic tables and a benches. After a few minutes of searching, I found a bench that wouldn't shatter into millions of pieces if I sat on it. I put my bag underneath my head for a somewhat pillow and laid back. For a while I just sat there listening to the creek bubble until sleep finally crept on me.

Something wet hit my face, waking me up from my peaceful sleep. I groaned, sitting up. Where was I? Why was I on a bench? What was it that just hit my face? Then everything hit me like a punch in the face. I groaned again, laying back down. I closed my eyes, begging to wake up in my warm bed back home, praying yesterday was just a horrible nightmare. Another rain drop landed square on my closed eye. Nope, that wasn't going to work. I shook off the rain drop and got up. My back was sore from the stiff bench but I had to keep walking. I had over three hundred miles to go but before anything could happen, I had to pee.

Coming out of the park, I went up to the main road. More cars were on the road this morning than last night. Puddles had already formed on sides of the road. As each car passed, I got sprayed with water. Not to mention that rain was already pouring on to my head.

"Seriously?" I asked up to the sky. I just couldn't get a break, could I? My stomach growled, yelling at me for more food. Ugh, I hoped that burger would have helped hold me over but it didn't. I knew I had a lot of money still left but I didn't want to blow it all yet. It was going to be at least a few weeks. A long few weeks, I might add. I decided that once I found a gas station, I would find some food and get a map to make sure I was going in the right direction.

Twenty minutes later, I came up to an old gas station. It had peeling white paint and was plastered with advertisements and sales. Inside was filed with mostly alcohol and cigarettes. In the far corner next to some snacks, was a small stand with maps and brochures of what to do nearby(which is absolutely nothing). I grabbed a map. For a few minutes I fumbled around with the map(it was upside down) and realized I was going the right way. My first break of the day. That was enough to give me a small smile. I stuffed the map in my bag and left.

The rain never seemed to end but I kept walking. It was just a minor obstacle. An annoying one but I could handle it. What took more time to handle were my thoughts. Hurt and rejection washed upon me when I thought of Adam throwing me off of him. I could hear every name being thrown at me. Fag, queer, pervert, sick, disgusting. They followed me. I just wish they would stay back in that locker room but they didn't. They rang in my ears, repeating themselves until I believed them. The other part of my mind while I was taunting myself was asking what-ifs. What if he didn't throw me off of him? Would both of us have been beaten up? Or would everyone be cool with us being gay? Well Casey wouldn't because she would feel betrayed. Man, this was the first time I thought about Casey. I hoped she was okay. No one better be messing with her or I would kick some butt. Well not really, I wouldn't know out here in the middle of nowhere. Anyways, if I ever came back there, I would find her and apologize. I would take all her anger and bitterness towards me. I deserved it. Was Adam receiving any fallout for this either? Were people asking questions now? This was the first scandal to rock the town since the preacher's daughter got knocked up two years ago so everybody had to know and be gossiping by now. I hoped Adam was being asked uncomfortable questions. Maybe the truth would come out then. My bitterness wanted him to pay what I had to pay. No matter how bitter I was though, I couldn't out him to the whole town. It wasn't right. No matter if that's what he did to me. I just wanted him to push himself into the grave he made for me. I doubt it would happen. I didn't even know if he felt guilty for what he did to me. He should. His cowardliness set off a chain reaction. If he hadn't of done what he did, everything would be different. I might not be walking three hundred and thirty miles. I might not have fooled around with a stranger. Adam and I might have ran away together. His parents might have been okay with it and let me stay with them. The what-ifs were endless. Wondering what might have been was enough to drive me crazy along with the cycle of repeats in my head. The shame, anger, and pain kept drilling through me. Then I felt waves of dirtiness crash through me as I thought about last night. There had to be something wrong with me. Why else would nobody want me? Why else would everybody including strangers reject me? My own mother didn't want me enough to leave my abusive dad. What if I reached my mom's family and they didn't want me? Where could I go? I was counting on people who I had never met not knew anything about. All I had was some address that I hoped wasn't outdated. There was nobody else. I couldn't go to the police. They would just bring me back home. No that wasn't home anymore. This was my home now, the open highway. I couldn't go back and see if that death threat would come true or not. No matter what I had to keep on going but until l then Ripley, Mississippi was my destination.

At around noon, the rain stopped. Replacing it was the hot Mississippi sun. Within half an hour, my clothes were dry and beads of sweat slide down my face. I took off my shirt, exposing my bare bruised stomach. Bruises of all colors were painted on my stomach. Some ached without touch. I swore to myself that these were the last bruises that came from punches or any kind of abuse. No one I went past seemed to notice my bruises. They didn't care that I was shirtless either. They probably thought I was a farm boy from a neighboring town. One of the perks of a small town, I guess. Once I got into the bigger cities, I would have to put one on but I had a while before that. It took me two days to get to a city big enough for me to be fully clothed. Nothing had happened in those two days. I had gone roughly forty since I had left. It was night time once I reached the city. The skylights looked like stars in the midnight black sky, as I approached the city. Seeing as it was almost midnight, only a few restaurants were open. Trees lined up along most streets. On lamp post hung colorful flags, advertising stores and restaurants. Where was an alley I could sleep? My only thoughts were to find a place to sleep. After a little searching, I found an alley between a bookstore and a drug store. Instantly I was engulfed in the darkness of the alley. I could barely see my own hand in front of me. I turned my head back to the entrance. It was only a faint light. I kept on going down the dark, damp alley. The damp brick walls emitted a cool, musty smell. It reminded a little of the boy's locker room. Boxes were everywhere. I tripped over one and felt a sharp stinging in my hand.

"Crap." I muttered. I felt something warm trickle down my hand and arm. Of course, I would cut myself tripping over a box. Just my cursed luck. I sat down between two boxes and sat my bag down in front of me. Searching with my left arm, I finally found an old holey sock to tie, tightly around my hand. I didn't know how deep the cut was or anything. In the morning, I would check it out. If it was too bad, I was next door to a drug store and there was probably a free clinic nearby somewhere. With that decided I settled in between the boxes and fell asleep.

"Shh...Don't wake him up, you idiot." I head someone whisper thorough the fog of my sleepiness. What the-? Then I felt someone tug my bag. Instinctively I whipped my knife out of my pocket and popped up. Two people, one boy and girl, were going through my bag.

"Get the hell off my bag!" I yelled. The girl screamed and backed off but the boy stared me down with his dark eyes. "I said; get the hell off my bag." I almost growled this time. All my money and everything I owned were in there. No way was I letting these thieves take it.

"What are you going to do?" He asked, taunting me. His voice was a lot rougher than mine.

"All I'm asking is for you to put my bag down and leave." I didn't want to fight him. I actually had no idea what to do with a knife. It was just for show. Hopefully, they wouldn't call my bluff.

"Come on, Thomas, leave him alone." the girl urged, tugging his arm. I could tell she was young and scared. I would never do anything to her. Before I could say anything else, I saw a fist flying towards me. I ducked and jumped right back up, punching him. I heard a grunt and my bag drop to the ground. I swooped down to grab it and ran. As I ran I strapped it to my back again. I heard footsteps chasing after me until bam! He tackled me! I felt his jagged breath up against my skin. I felt his fist punch me in my stomach.

"Urgh." I grunted. So much for no more bruises. I rolled on top of him. I punched him three times in the face, feeling my knuckles ring with pain.

"Please, stop." The girl cried. Hearing her cries snapped me out of it. I got up and put away my knife. The girl ran over to him, crying. I could hear the guy grumbling that he was alright. I put my bag down and pulled out twenty dollars. I handed it to the girl. Her big brown eyes looked scared but then quickly turned grateful. She didn't have to say thank you. I saw it in her eyes. I didn't know why I gave them the money. Maybe it was because I felt bad I had punched him. Maybe it was because I knew they were homeless like me and just trying to survive. Or maybe it was the lack of sleep. I chalked it up to a mix of the three. Looking back, I just walked away. Never again will I stay the night in a city. Once I got out of city limits, I found a ditch and fell asleep until late morning.

Days passed by slowly' but my money went faster. One morning I woke up and fifty dollars were missing. I was lucky that was all. I tried conserving money the best I could but I had no idea how much longer I was going to be on the road. Then I had to buy some bandages for my hand to keep it from bleeding. It ended up being deep but not deep enough to go see someone for it. So whenever I felt hungry I tried distracting myself. But Mississippi was a snooze fest so my thoughts went inwards. I wondered what was going on back in town. Was my dad beating my mom now? Or was his violent urges only towards me? Please let it be the second one. I didn't want my mom hurt. The rest was the same as every day. I tried blocking everything out. I didn't want to think nothing or feel nothing anymore. All I felt were terrible things. I begged that I would die before I fell asleep. Once I fell asleep, I had nightmares. It was always the same but different. It was my dad beating me to death because I was gay. Some nights he did it with his bare hands. He would punch me, breaking my nose and then my ribs. I was unable to breath. I tried with all my might to scream for help but all that came out were little gasps. Other nights he would slit my throat open and leave me to die. All I could feel was the blood pooling around me, drowning me. Every night before the last breath would come out I would wake up, crying or shouting. I tried staying away heavily populated places when I slept so no one would see me in that state. Once I woke up from those, I couldn't fall asleep so I walked on. Then by mid-day, I was ready to pass out so I would in a ditch. The same cycle repeated itself. I just walked around like a zombie. I felt nothing. I showed nothing. Nothing seemed to matter anymore. I just kept walking, being driven by some unseen force.

I think it was nine days and two hundred miles later, I came across a train station. It mainly housed cargo trains but there were a few passenger trains. It didn't matter anyways, I didn't have enough money to buy a ticket but I could sneak on an empty car on a cargo train. One was bound to go to Ripley. I went inside and sat on one of the uncomfortable navy blue chairs, near the ticket counter. For a small train station, it was surprisingly busy. I acted like I was people watching while waiting for a train but really I was listening to the people behind the counter. I caught a stroke of good luck because twenty minutes a black haired woman said," The next cargo train to Ripley leaves in ten minutes." Yes! That was the most emotion I had felt in days. I got up and left, feeling a small smile on my lips. I must have looked like a weirdo waiting and just randomly leaving but oh, well. I snuck through a back door I spotted when I came in. It led to a long dark hallway. I went down the hallway and went through a heavy metal door at the end. I was on the platform. Simply put it was cool. Trains were steaming in and out of the platform. The passenger trains gleamed in the early morning sunlight while the cargo trains were rusting away before my eyes. People and train operators were crawling around everywhere. No one seemed to notice me; I looked around for any sign of the train going to Ripley. Crap, But then the God-sent words flowed from someone's mouth. "The train going to Ripley is over there." I didn't know who he was talking to him but all I saw was him point to an old train. I went over to it. I found an old empty car about halfway down the long train. When no one was looking I hopped in. It was kind of dark inside. Whatever had been in it before smelt terrible? Underneath me was a damp wooden floor. I sat in the farthest, darkest corner, praying not to be found. What seemed like an eternity later, the train lurched forward.

Hope you liked it. Vote comment and give me feedback please!

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