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Description
Brown and grey blurs were all that my brain could comprehend as the white SUV I was trapped in sped down the dirt roads. My seatbelt felt like a straitjacket; the vehicle a prison cell. No, not as free as a cell, more like a padded-wall psychiatric solitary confinement room. The room guards, aka my escorts, attempted to make small talk, but I knew on the inside they must be disgusted with me. I was a wreck: my fiery red hair disheveled in a quick attempt of a pony tail; dark circles encompassing my bright blue eyes, which had red spider-web weaving across them; arms that were graced with there own kind of red spider-webs – cuts that spelled out the words or just made slashes. The escorts were probably afraid of catching some crazy person disease from me.
Fortunately for them, my insanity wasn’t contagious. They were unscathed by my depression when they dropped me off at a small, bleak looking building in the middle of Nowheresville, Utah. From there, I got trapped in another vehicle, this time an old, beat up white truck. I was crammed between two hick women, talking over my head about there children and a chicken that had escaped from the coop last night. My head was fuzzy with the smell of a ham Subway sandwich they had bought me and that dirt essence that always seems to come with country trucks. These ladies didn’t seem bothered with my disheveled appearance, in fact, I got the sense that they felt more at ease with my mess, as if it was natural and all people looked as if they hadn’t bathed for days.
As the truck careened over the bumpy dirt roads my stomach lurched. I had barely touched my Subway sandwich, and the Sprite I had gotten was just sweating away in my lap. Thinking about where I was going and what I would be doing increased my nauseated feeling, as well as giving me a headache. This was not how I was supposed to be spending that last precious days of my summer vacation.
A few hours later, when all my brain could comprehend were blurs of camouflage mountains and the slight drone of the truck engine, we stopped. I looked out to see what hell would face me next, and tears instantly began to cascade down my cheeks. I exited the vehicle slowly, not wanting to touch the ground in hopes I could still wake up from this nightmare, and feeling that actually standing up would make this reality final. I tasted blood in my mouth from biting my lip so hard, and I couldn’t see the faces of the escorts clearly, due to crying, as they hugged me goodbye. I held my breath in as I turned to face destiny, still not believing this could actually be real…..
August 24, 2004, I left my best friends home in England after a six week stay with her, to return to my home in Seattle. I had hoped for this trip to be an escape from my reality, but it turned out to be another thing I wanted to run from. My parents and I were going through – to put it nicely – hell. I guess one could blame it all on me: yelling, threatening to kill myself or them, running away, self-harming. My boyfriend and I were looking for a studio apartment to move into together, and I wasn’t afraid to use that fact against my family whenever possible. However, I liked to blame all this on Mom and Dad: they just didn’t understand me.
In England I found my best friend was also struggling. I couldn’t stand to see her in pain. We constantly tried to get the other out of the darkness. Our efforts were in vain, both of us were too far in to get out. K and were a mess – always fighting, always causing the other pain, but too in love to break things off. These added stresses caused me to spiral further into the depths of myself.
Mom and Dad saw the pain behind my eyes, bringing them daily anxiety and stress over what was going on in my life. That’s why they made one of the hardest decisions possible – to send me away from them.
About eight hours after I returned to Seattle I was awoken from my fitful sleep by the hands of my father shaking me. I thought it must be morning and Dad wanted me to get up to do something for him. I ignored his shaking me and pretended to still be asleep. Then I felt the weight of someone else sitting on my mattress and heard sniffing coming from Mom. She was crying. I realized I should open my eyes and see what was wrong. When I turned over to face them I saw that there were two other figures in my room besides Mom and Dad. Two people I’d never seen before in my life: a woman, around her thirties, mid height, and a big white man.
Dad grabbed my hand and squeezed it; mom could barely look me in the eyes. “We want you to know that we love you so much, Anna. We are doing this because we love you.” My heart lurched. What were they talking about? Were they sending me away to live with these strangers? Foster care?
“Whaddya’ mean?” I stammered.
“These people are going to take you. You’re going to a place that can help you.”
I was too shocked and scared to say anything. My parents left the room, leaving me and the strangers alone. I got out of bed, numb, and did everything they told me to do. A few minutes later they were leading me out to a car. “Do you want to say goodbye to your folks?” I shook my head, tears beginning to form. This can’t be real. It must be a dream…this can not be real. As it turns out, it was the most real thing that ever happened to me.

Description
Brown and grey blurs were all that my brain could comprehend as the white SUV I was trapped in sped down the dirt roads. My seatbelt felt like a straitjacket; the vehicle a prison cell. No, not as free as a cell, more like a padded-wall psychiatric solitary confinement room. The room guards, aka my escorts, attempted to make small talk, but I knew on the inside they must be disgusted with me. I was a wreck: my fiery red hair disheveled in a quick attempt of a pony tail; dark circles encompassing my bright blue eyes, which had red spider-web weaving across them; arms that were graced with there own kind of red spider-webs – cuts that spelled out the words or just made slashes. The escorts were probably afraid of catching some crazy person disease from me.
Fortunately for them, my insanity wasn’t contagious. They were unscathed by my depression when they dropped me off at a small, bleak looking building in the middle of Nowheresville, Utah. From there, I got trapped in another vehicle, this time an old, beat up white truck. I was crammed between two hick women, talking over my head about there children and a chicken that had escaped from the coop last night. My head was fuzzy with the smell of a ham Subway sandwich they had bought me and that dirt essence that always seems to come with country trucks. These ladies didn’t seem bothered with my disheveled appearance, in fact, I got the sense that they felt more at ease with my mess, as if it was natural and all people looked as if they hadn’t bathed for days.
As the truck careened over the bumpy dirt roads my stomach lurched. I had barely touched my Subway sandwich, and the Sprite I had gotten was just sweating away in my lap. Thinking about where I was going and what I would be doing increased my nauseated feeling, as well as giving me a headache. This was not how I was supposed to be spending that last precious days of my summer vacation.
A few hours later, when all my brain could comprehend were blurs of camouflage mountains and the slight drone of the truck engine, we stopped. I looked out to see what hell would face me next, and tears instantly began to cascade down my cheeks. I exited the vehicle slowly, not wanting to touch the ground in hopes I could still wake up from this nightmare, and feeling that actually standing up would make this reality final. I tasted blood in my mouth from biting my lip so hard, and I couldn’t see the faces of the escorts clearly, due to crying, as they hugged me goodbye. I held my breath in as I turned to face destiny, still not believing this could actually be real…..
August 24, 2004, I left my best friends home in England after a six week stay with her, to return to my home in Seattle. I had hoped for this trip to be an escape from my reality, but it turned out to be another thing I wanted to run from. My parents and I were going through – to put it nicely – hell. I guess one could blame it all on me: yelling, threatening to kill myself or them, running away, self-harming. My boyfriend and I were looking for a studio apartment to move into together, and I wasn’t afraid to use that fact against my family whenever possible. However, I liked to blame all this on Mom and Dad: they just didn’t understand me.
In England I found my best friend was also struggling. I couldn’t stand to see her in pain. We constantly tried to get the other out of the darkness. Our efforts were in vain, both of us were too far in to get out. K and were a mess – always fighting, always causing the other pain, but too in love to break things off. These added stresses caused me to spiral further into the depths of myself.
Mom and Dad saw the pain behind my eyes, bringing them daily anxiety and stress over what was going on in my life. That’s why they made one of the hardest decisions possible – to send me away from them.
About eight hours after I returned to Seattle I was awoken from my fitful sleep by the hands of my father shaking me. I thought it must be morning and Dad wanted me to get up to do something for him. I ignored his shaking me and pretended to still be asleep. Then I felt the weight of someone else sitting on my mattress and heard sniffing coming from Mom. She was crying. I realized I should open my eyes and see what was wrong. When I turned over to face them I saw that there were two other figures in my room besides Mom and Dad. Two people I’d never seen before in my life: a woman, around her thirties, mid height, and a big white man.
Dad grabbed my hand and squeezed it; mom could barely look me in the eyes. “We want you to know that we love you so much, Anna. We are doing this because we love you.” My heart lurched. What were they talking about? Were they sending me away to live with these strangers? Foster care?
“Whaddya’ mean?” I stammered.
“These people are going to take you. You’re going to a place that can help you.”
I was too shocked and scared to say anything. My parents left the room, leaving me and the strangers alone. I got out of bed, numb, and did everything they told me to do. A few minutes later they were leading me out to a car. “Do you want to say goodbye to your folks?” I shook my head, tears beginning to form. This can’t be real. It must be a dream…this can not be real. As it turns out, it was the most real thing that ever happened to me.