Twilight was misty and cold in California that night as I stood outside my father’s house. I was 16 holding only a small brown leather purse with a few dollars. I Stared at the unlit door, knowing once again I had disappointed my family. I thought about what would happen once I walked in late for curfew once more.
My step mother would yell and a call would be made to what ever part of the world my father happen to be for his job. I could imagine the look on their faces; disappointment and Anger. But it was the faces of my younger half sisters that caused me to delay walking in.
Knowing they would hear the fighting and be awoken from their dreams. That me, their bigger sister had been the cause of their life turning upside down for the past 8 months since I moved in.
Right then and there I decided to walk away. Where would I go?
My grandmother lived just across the Street yet I had once already been dragged from her house. Being told my home was through that unlit door.
My mother and step father 3000 miles away. What was I doing?
In my twisted teenage mind, I thought I was saving them. Saving them from myself. The only way I knew to protect their hearts was to remove the problem, which was me.
So into the night I walked without saying goodbye, without looking back.
My heart-broken for the house light that wasn’t lit.
If they only knew just how much that light would have meant to me.
Maybe. Just maybe I wouldn’t have followed the street lights that promised a home.