For now

Days have been hard; change isn't good, and the strange feeling of uncertainty and fear creep into my brain when I sit and think about the fateful June night. I live in Bar Harbor, Maine. A small town where everyone knows everyone and everyone's business. Including mine. As my alarm goes off I jump out of the strange dream about my past and fumble with the clock. Getting up I'm groggy and completely delusional, but I put on short and my running shoes. I sneak past my parents room like I've been doing since I was twelve and head out the door. It's still early enough for the street lamps to be on and I can feel the cool air sink into my skin. We live on a cliff that overlooks the harbor, where ships come and go with the lighthouse that is just over two miles away. The dirt path leads directly to it; with the gulls overhead keeping me company I sprint the rest of the way and rest on the door until I catch my breath. I sit on the cliff until the sun comes up and head back down before my phone starts going off. I can hear my dad shuffling around news paper when I jog inside.