Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was a cold night. So was yesterday, and the day before that. Too bad I had left home, and now I'm stuck on the road, sleeping in cheap motels each night, going from bar to bar till they kick me out at six o'clock to be exact.

I didn't want this to happen. I thought that I would gain independence by leaving behind everything. I had a pretty easy life, and the truth is that I did no longer want to ease things for myself.

Oh no, easing my life has gone me nowhere. Now I'm doing the opposite. It was that time were I thought "What the fuck am I doing?", and it all started like that.

I didn't meet Tyler Durden until 3 weeks passed since I left my parents'  home. Poor mom, I will never forget the face that she made when I told her my plans. She and my dad shared a look, one filled with sadness and disappointment. They didn't know what they did wrong.

"Have we not done enough?" They simply questioned.

It wasn't about them, though, and I was sure to make that clear. However they didn't believe me, -as expected of course- and so they left me no choice, but to storm out of the house uncaringly. I did what I had to do and I said what I had to say. If they couldn't accept the fact that this wasn't about them, then it's their fault. I almost pitied them, seeing how concerned they were. Eager to help me.

I didn't need help. I thought that I'm the one who will create problems for myself and I'll be the one to solve them.

Which brings me back to Tyler. Oh yeah, that guy sure did need help. He was mental. Fun but mental. I actually thought we made a pretty pair together. Me and him. Him and I.

For the record, I'm kidding of course. I didn't think he was crazy or insane or depressed or whatever the fuck people around us called him. Nor did I think that I am mental and unstable. It was quite funny to joke around this shit but we never ever took it seriously.

Well, I'm really sorry. Here I am yapping and blabbering when you could just read the story yourself.

I hope you enjoy.

Chapter Text

I think that I started thinking about leaving home the day after my seventeenth birthday. My parents got me this beautiful light purple chocolate cake with whipped cream and cherries. I thought it was heaven. And then my heaven was ruined, as I looked round the table and saw the faces that stood before me.

Friends and family, they all smiled happily while they were singing the birthday song. "Happy birthday to you..." 

And then, I lost focus.

I thought about where am I and with who. Would I still spend time with these people if they weren't my family or close ones? Would I still be here, in the small apartment that my parents worked so hard for? 

If I were to start things again, they wouldn't be this way. "I'm still young", I thought to myself. "I still have time.".

I started thinking my way out. I couldn't walk up to the door and leave right now, that would be unacceptable. I didn't want to be rude, that was not why I was doing this. I was aware of the love that surrounded me.

"So maybe I can wait till we eat the cake and the guests are gone, and then I can leave." I shook my head (in my mind). No, I couldn't do this either. It's already 11 pm and I certainly wouldn't want to be alone on the streets at that time or later.

"I'll just leave tomorrow. I will pack my things and by then I'll have figured out a plan on what I'm going to do. I hope." 

By 1 am everyone was at their house, peacefully sleeping. I washed my face, brushed my teeth and said 'goodnight' to my parents. 

Now, it was just me in my room. I started looking around my room for a travel bag or really anything else I can use to pack my stuff with me. A suitcase would be too big, and my school bag would be too small. 

I gave my backpack a short glance and I audibly gasped before putting my hand on my mouth to quiet myself down. Fortunately, it wasn't too small. I don't know why I thought it was. Maybe I needed to made up my mind about the things I was going to take with me.

Backpack, check. I mentally crossed that out of my list.

Now, clothes.

I decided to take two pairs on jeans, one white button up shirt (a needed a formal shirt, for whatever reason), two t-shirts, a sweater and my brown leather jacket. 

"Oh no" I looked at my wide open school bag and realised that I had ran out of empty space. I teared up and my breaths got shorter. I didn't know why this got me so worked up. "Maybe I shouldn't leave..."

No. 

If I survived the first crisis, all the others will simply pass.

I collected myself quickly and I tried to come up with a solution for my current problem. 

I decided to wear some of the clothes that I was previously going to carry with me, so that I could fit in the backpack other stuff. So, I wore one of my jeans, one of the tshirts and then my jacket. 

Clothes, check.

I spent half an hour trying to decide which stuff I need more than the others. "A hairbrush? Definitely no. Soap? A hotel may probably have, but I should take a small bottle with me." 

Check.

At the end it all came down to money. I had some cash in a little wooden box but I didn't know if I should take some of my parents money with me. Steal. Just the thought of that made me feel uncomfortable. Either way, I was going to tell them that I'm leaving so if they want to support me financially for a while that would be great. 

With that in mind, I opened my box to see how much money I have, to take with me. 300 hundred dollars. Not as much as I hoped, to be honest. But still, a respectable amount.

And then after all of this, my eyes were drawn once again to my pink notebook. My sweet diary that I had since I was six years old. I couldn't leave without it. 

And so, I hopped on my bed and I drifted to sleep, trying not to think too much about what will happen the next morning.