Look Underneath The Stereotype

I woke up to a killer headache, back ache, and a feeling. That feeling? Well, putting two and two together shouldn't be too hard, since I was drunk last night. I got up, quickly stretching and opening the front door.

Surprisingly, it was open. Not open as in all I had to do was push it and the space widened allowing me through, but as in, not locked, as in, someone is home, as in, someone left me outside on the doorstep, as in, my mom ignored me (I know my dad wouldn't dare show his face again).

I found my mom inside, packing my stuff. Her's was already in suitcases just outside my room.

"Mom?"

My mom suddenly looked up. Her face was stained with both dried and fresh tears.

"What are you doing?"

"We're leaving. Now finish packing your things. I'll be in the kitchen, we leave in an hour."

"Where are we leaving to?"

"Canada. I hear the men there are more reasonable, and loyal. Like dogs only better."

With that she walked out the door.

It took me a little under an hour to pack all my things in my suitcase. The first half hour I had spent the time thinking about my life. I realized I didn't want to be the person I was anymore. I decided I was going to change. I was going to be tough, but nice. Unless someone really did deserve it. I decided I was no longer going to bully the people I saved.

I was going to be new and improved. I would probably still skip, still get in fights, but I'd keep it more in check.

"Maddison?!"

I froze. My mom never called me Maddison. It was always little pet names or just plain Maddie. I guess my mom decided to make some changes as well.

"Coming!"

I walked out the door and into a strange vehicle. I guess with that change came a new car. I packed my mom's suitcases along with mine.

The ride was filled with a long silence. That ended once we came to the border.

"Hello. We're moving into Canada. We've got the papers if you'd like to see them?"

"No, that's alright. Move through."

Of course. You come into the USA, the security is all tight, and you're lucky to not get searched. You go into Canada, and it's the complete opposite. It just shows the type of country. Anyone can get into Canada, while you'd be lucky if you can stay in the USA. (Author's note: I know it's not like this, but I'm just playing it off like this. It's her POV.)

Goodbye old life. Hello new.

This was the thought that continued to plague my mind as I went from state to state, but right now, it had never been more true. My life as a U.S. citizen was over. I would never again see any of the people I had once known.

Throughout my travels I had occasionally met people from my past schools, but since I'm moving a whole country instead of state, every little thing changes.