My name is Maxine but I go by Max. My story starts at the

end of August one week before school starts. We had all just sat down for

dinner when I decided to bring up the topic my health class gave us for

homework this summer. It was to take in information from different types of

couples same gender or not. So I had told my mom about it and she continued for

the entire time of dinner about how she loves Paul and how he was the best

thing that ever happened to her. Eventually Grace got tired and was ready for

bed, Paul took her upstairs to her room to read her a bedtime story. I figured

it was a perfect time to bring up same sex/gender couples now that it was just

me and mom. She however was not so please of this topic change. “Why do you care

about that?” she asked almost sounding disgusted by the fact of it. “Well I took

some time thinking about it and for a long time I have liked girls too mom. And

I know that being bisexual is who I am and I don’t need to change.” I told her twiddling

my fingers. She turns towards me her face turning red. She rummages through an old

cupboard under the china cupboard. She turns towards me. “TAKE IT AND GET

OUT!" yells a thundering voice coming from my mom I thought I once knew

her arm raised with an envelope in her hands. "WE DON"T NEED A

DISGRACE LIKE YOU IN MY FAMILY!" she continues. I just stare at her from

across the room surprised. In all of my life I had never seen her act like

that. "God..." she mumbles beneath her breath gazing down at the

hardwood floor lowering the envelope placed in her hand.”Paul was right, you

aren't normal you have "his" blood." she states

looking directly into my eyes for the first time since dinner. "Why, why

couldn't you be more like Grace? She's normal and then there's just you."

she says. 'I'm me and if that isn't good enough for you maybe I should just

leave, Paul never liked me anyway and in no way has he ever helped me as a

father. And don't even get me started on Grace. You only like her because she

has yours and Paul's genes and I'm here with “his" genes. How

when you look at Grace you can smile because she’s not like me, you don’t have

to see the man who walked out on you after he found out you were pregnant even

after you gave up everything for him. But the problem is I’m me and I can’t

change who I am. I am me. I’m not the one who walked out on you but of course

you wouldn’t understand. How could you? Every time you see me you look past who

I am and simply look at the part of me that represents him. I know your done

and so am I, I’ll leave tonight but don’t contact me after Paul does the same

thing to you and life repeats itself. Oh and do me a favor and don’t do this to

Grace, she deserves better and is still too young to understand.” I say walking

closer and snatching the envelope from the woman I once had called my mother.

She falls down and gazes up at me with tears in her eyes. I avoid her gaze looking

away and acting as though she is nothing but a stranger to me. Because from now

onwards that’s what we would be. I walk past her and gaze around the old but

warm house I had grown up in. I take a short gaze in the kitchen staring around

capturing the image and burning it into my mind until it only exists in my memories

now. The old oak wood cupboards, the white gas light stove, the white marble tile

floor cold to the touch, the refrigerator covered in Graces finger paint projects.

All of this burned into my mind as well as the strong smell of apple cinnamon pie

that lurked among the air. Passing the kitchen gazing around the dining room where

we had my first thanksgiving dinner. The two vanilla scented candles lit giving

off a cozy vibe placed atop the birch wood table. Yet a dark brown table top

covers the light birch wood. I dash through the house, past the living room

with old leather smell coming from the couches, past the newly placed red

fluffy rug up the old creaky stairs with a green carpet installed on them. My

bare feet race up the stairs almost fast enough to feel the rug burn my skin,

almost. I dash towards my room, dull and plain. Probably the plainest room in

the entire house. The walls are white and I never cared much for such things as

putting up posters and hanging up medallions. Sure I was smart and admired but didn’t

care for that sort of thing. I was basically a puppet played by my so called

mom who would choose the courses I was to go into. I go to my bed linen striped

and being cleaned made it a lot easier to get in between the mattress and box

spring. This was where I kept the things precious to me, that way they wouldn’t

be found and taken away. I grab the only surviving picture of my father left in

the entire house as well as what looks like a small shoe box but flatter. I

stuff them both into my hiking backpack, which conveniently already has a

sleeping bad and linen wrapped and attached at the bottom of it I grab my

clothes which wasn’t much but just enough for about a week and a half without

needing to be cleaned. And lastly I grab some non-perishable food items and a

couple water bottles. I unzip the pocket to my jacket and stuff the envelope

inside of it, just barley fitting into it. I walk down the stairs slower now. Touching

the rail in hope it could become a lasting memory. I marched to the tall, now

rusting from over the year’s door and I pull up my tall army boots and twist

the door knob. Only stopping for a second to look back at what now is only the

past. I turn around and swing the door open. “I Maxine am starting a new life,

in a new town, a new house and going to go into grade 11 with high spirits.” I

smile, being freed from that fake family. I walk up to the curb and call for a

taxi. As the taxi pulls up and I heave open the door and hop in he asks, “Where

to?”  “Chicago’s airport please.” I tell him with a

half curved smile. And that, was where my story began.

I place my elbow on the thin window sill, gazing as all the trees and roads I grew up around flew past my eyes. I look down at the door and push the small black glowing button to pull down the window, only to close it once we emerge onto the highway. The highway is lit with the lights gazing upon all the cars. All seeming to be in a rush, all except the small bright yellow cab car I was in. I wasn’t in any rush, in fact, I could care less if it took hours to get to the airport. I was entertained enough by watching the lights, looking as though they turn off every time we speed past a gap between two of them. I zone out, my eyes still staring out the window. But I am no longer staring at the passing lights, instead of my eyes now follow a car that had suddenly crashed into the ditch along the side of the road. I stare at the car, smoke rising more and more by each passing second. “The car is going to blow up with the person inside of it if they don’t get out soon,” I think to myself. Although no one seems to be leaving the vehicle. My eyes move from the hood of the car where the smoke was coming, to the license plate. “C7Y 6P9L” it reads. Suddenly I gasp, I recognized that license plate. It was my friend Abby. “ Excuse me,” I call up to the driver's seat, one of my hands grasping firmly at the leather seat in front of me and the other one fumbling at my seat belt. “ Um sorry to ask this but could you pull over quickly?” I say nervously. “Sure” he replies although his tone doesn’t match his answer. I mean what do I expect, it was bound to be near midnight now and no one really wants to be driving around right now. “Thanks,” I say rushed. I pull the door open as fast as I could and carefully hop out and land on the damp grass, still slightly wet from last nights rainfall. I race down the ditch to the small black car. I grab the handle to the door and swing it open violently. “Abby” I whisper .“ABBY!” I say louder as I shake her awake and unbuckle her. I take her out of the car and stumble back up the hill of the ditch. Sinking more and more into the mud with every step. I set her into the back seat and get in. “Thanks for waiting,”  I tell the cab driver as he resumes the drive. About five minutes in Abby comes back to her senses. “Where am I,” she asks confused as she rubs

her head with a scrunched face.  “Your car was smoking so I came and took you out,” I tell her still gazing out the window, not daring to make eye contact in case she finds out something was wrong. But it was too late. “What’s wrong,” she asks as I feel her stare from the back of my head. I’ve never been able to lie to Abby so I come clean about everything. After ten minutes of explaining she says nothing for a while, I do the same. The silence crept around the entire backseat of the cab. Suddenly the silence breaks when Abby says “I want to come too.” with a smile. I stare at her for what felt like days but was probably only a minute. “You can’t. My family kicked me out while yours didn’t so you should stay here. Plus I don’t want to put this on you as well.” I tell her. “Actually….” she starts. “What?” I ask her. “I kinda did get kicked out for not being the perfect daughter and all to my family so I am going on an adventure and if you are too I’d love to do it with my best friend.” She tells me looking into my eyes now that I have turned my head towards hers. “But” I start but I already know she won't give up. So I sigh and look at her in the eyes. “You better not regret this," I tell her knowing I can't say no to her. She smiles and gives me a big hug. "Thank you so much," she tells me. Then a voice interrupts us from the front. "We're here," the cab driver says. I smile and glance at Abby. "Okay!" I tell him.