Temporary Escape - Poem

Maybe I've managed to post a non-leave-you-hanging story/poem? (Let me know, Kim!) I call this a "story" because it pretty much IS a story of one evening I spent sleeping (er... NOT sleeping... more like lying awake shivering to death with all the night sounds to keep me company) in my little brother's rope-web tree house. Instead of customary boards and planks, Jared built his tree house out of a series of knots and ropes all tied together in a hammock-like web. I spent the night outside for one reason--I'd ran away from home that evening to escape the hate and anger filled rooms of that house after an argument with my mother. After a few hours, when I decided to be a good kid and come home before my parents got too worried about my disappearance, I looked through the front window on my way to the front door and saw my dad setting the perimeter alarm system and locking down the house for the night (before I'd gotten inside).

I suddenly realized at that moment, standing in the middle of my front lawn looking in on the cozy occupants of that house... nobody had missed me. Nobody knew I was gone. That meant quite a lot to me in my young, confused, angry, upset, searching-for-my-place-in-life teenage mind. I realized that night that I wasn't as important to my parents as I thought I was. I knew then that all the years I'd been telling myself it didn't matter when they forgot me or brushed me aside or overlooked me... I realized it HAD mattered all along, and it was too much for me to bear any longer. I wasn't even worth checking in on before they went to sleep. I came to realize years down the road that I wasn't even worthy of getting a phone call on my birthday from either parent, just to wish me an enjoyable birthday. That night in late August right before I began my Senior year of high school, I realized I was alone in the world, and I had to make it on my own. I knew I was on my own from then on out, and I needed time to myself to accept this new discovery. It wasn't so much that I NEEDED to be remembered by them. It just would have been nice to know that I was missed and remembered every now and then by the two people who brought me into this world.

I decided to spend the night outside in the tree house--escape the pressures and stresses and complex family relationships in my life, since they didn't even realize I was absent--cold as it was in late August. One part I DID embellish in this story is the fact that I SAY I had a down-filled bag. All I really had was my t-shirt, jeans, and a mildewy sheet that had been outside for quite some time. "Mildewy sheet" doesn't have as sweet and comforting sound as "Down-filled bag" so I took the liberty in changing it. Hey, it's MY STORY! =) Hope you like it.

Temporary Escape

Tender flesh scraping on asphalt,

The man laughing at me in turn

As I gathered myself from the ground.

I awoke, as I always did then,

Only to hear a soft hum. I realized

A cricket stood a lonely watch

Somewhere nearby my lofty perch.

His soft chirp echoed in the dark

But he never once came into my sight.

The soldier-like sentry paused

For but a moment in his cadence,

Long enough to hold me in suspense,

Then resumed his call to the night.

The coarseness of the musty carpet

Felt like Daddy’s morning whiskers

Rubbing a greeting against my cheek.

I spread my hand across the rough surface,

A loose strand catching my attention.

Winding the fiber around my finger

Absently toying with it,

I opened my eyes to the cool night air.

I found myself staring at the bark,

Patterns deeply ingrained from years past,

The tree mere inches from my face.

A thick, rough smell of wood seized my senses,

Tickling my throat with its delicate touch.

A tiny insect invaded my solitude,

Prancing merrily across my nose.

Though I lifted a hand to brush it away,

The small-scale enemy did not give up.

Suddenly nipping at my ear,

The Lilliputian demanded attention,

And I gave it readily with annoyance.

The web of rope squeaked faintly below

As I rolled over in drowsy reflection

Of the man mocking my every fall.

Overhead, the stars gathered my interest,

Winking behind the swaying branches of the tree.

The myriad of oval leaves rustled gently,

Surrounding me with dancing shadows,

Teasing the moon with their quiet cavorting.

The sprinklers jolted me out of my reverie,

Their sputtering start into the steady rhythm

Of the ticker-tick of their movements.

Safely out of reach from the droplets of water,

Tiny, cold bombs spewing forth,

I curled up inside my down-filled bag,

Burrowing my head deep within its folds,

Trying to ward off further insect foes.

I fell asleep to the touch of the breeze

Ruffling through the soft hair on my head,

Going back to the laughing man in my mind.

By: Jennifer Ada Broadbent

Composed: January 23, 2003

The conclusion of this story would be that I woke up shivering uncontrollably around 4:00 AM and shivered it out for another half hour before I decided to break in to my parents' house so I wouldn't freeze to death. I sneaked in as much as you CAN sneak in when there is a perimeter alarm ringing sirens in your ears and I quickly shut it off and went down to my room and snuggled deep into the blankets for an hour before I had to get up for school. When I got home from school, my dad asked me where I had gone at 4:30 in the morning. Where I had GONE... not where had I been until 4:30. I simply told him I'd gone out to put a letter in the mailbox (which I had done... only I did that closer to 6:30... not 4:30). Liar Jen Alert! But my dad bought the story and never realized I had actually spent the night in the tree house, my temporary escape from life, realizing how little I meant in the lives of the rest of my family.