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Eastbound Wanderer
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TITLE (EDIT)
Eastbound Wanderer
DESCRIPTION
A runaway's Journey.
[543 words]
AUTHOR
Abbie Angel
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
-
[August 2004]
AUTHOR'S OTHER TITLES (16)
A Message From God (Short Stories) From a runaway girl, inspiration from God? Possibly. [599 words]
Cycle Of Street Life (Poetry) Life on the streets if you are not careful. [111 words]
Dirty City (Short Stories) Abbie Angel is running, hiding in a concrete and glass jungle. [696 words]
Dying For A Memory (Short Stories) When there is nothing left, what can you do? [228 words]
Forever Lost (Poetry) Poetry of the street people. [67 words]
He And You (Poetry) Yin and Yang--we all have the good and the evil in life; sometimes it is evil that wins. [103 words]
Hell's Gate (Short Stories) A sad story about a fire burning underground since 1962. [681 words]
Hunger Moon (Poetry) Poem about what it is like to me hungry. [168 words]
Lost Christmas (Short Stories) - [379 words]
Lost Girl (Short Stories) A true story about a girl who ran away from home when she was 15 years old. It's about me. [1,526 words]
Lost Girl 2 (Short Stories) More of my story being lost in a mean world. [619 words]
Lost Girl 3 (Short Stories) Abbie Angel, 15, is still running. This might be my last entry for a while. [884 words]
Magic Man (Short Stories) - [1,008 words]
Night Zombies (Poetry) About the street people. [166 words]
Pale Moon Of Christmas (Poetry) Abbie Angel, Runaway, is back again. [159 words]
The Antichrist Of The Blue Moon (Short Stories) My name is Abbie and I am a runaway. I think I met the Antichrist and that is my story. [1,409 words]
Eastbound Wanderer
Abbie Angel

This is Abbie Angel again. It has been almost six months since I left home after running away from a life I am no longer a part of. For a teenager, I look older than my age. Iím pretty tall and willowy. My real dad always told me that I look like Peggy Lipton, star of the old TV series called the Mod Squad. I never knew who she was, but I did a web search and dad is rightóit is like looking into a mirror. The only difference is that my hair is red, like a summer sunset. And Iím thinner.
Last night I called home. I heard momís voice and then I hung up. I just had to hear her voice because I love my mom very much. Thatís why I left. Steve, my step dad, hurt her when he got drunk. I called the cops once on him and when they came out, mom denied everything. When they finally left, he hurt her some more, and came after me, but I ran. I canít stand seeing mom all bruised and battered and I think Steve beat her because he didnít like me around, so I ran away.
Today I went through a mall and lucked out because they were giving away food samples in the food court and it was great. I even took some extra in my gym bag for later. I had a little extra money left so I brought a loaf of bread and an onion and made onion sandwiches to eat. I need to find some shoes, though. I walk a lot and shoes wear out pretty fast.
I wrote some more poetry while sitting on an old bridge with railroad tracks. It was really peaceful because I looked down into a valley with a creek that ran under the bridge and it was so peaceful. Oh, and I picked some sweet corn from one of the cornfields and borrowed a pail from a farm. I dipped it in the creek and made a small fire to boil the water for the corn. That was my supper. I didnít have any butter or salt, but you have to learn to get along without that stuff unless you grab those little packets out of restaurants.
One of you wrote that my poetry is sad and youíre right because it comes from a sad person. I have nothing to be happy about. I wonít post it here; Iíll be the only one who reads my poems.
I saw a couple of guys with guns coming down the railroad tracks, so I grabbed my stuff and ran into the woods to hide until they passed. I think they were hunters. Dad used to hunt around August for groundhogs, and then squirrels in September. I love animals and didnít like it when dad hunted. I did like fishing with my dad, though. I wonder if I can try that to catch some food, I donít know.
Well, sorry that I canít write about anything else right now. Iím working my way East, going towards New York City because I heard about a place there I can hide for the winter and have to check it out. Until next time.

      

 

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"hopefully one day you'll be able to put this all behind you and land in a happier place. you do a wonderful job describing your adventures." -- just a guy.
"All I can say is that I wish you the very best, and maybe soon you can find a little peace and a far better world.Good luck!!" -- P J Francis, UK.

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COPYRIGHT NOTICE
© 2004 Abbie Angel
STORYMANIA PUBLICATION DATE
August 2004
NUMBER OF TIMES TITLE VIEWED
1970
 

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