The Run Away Boy

By: Kaiden G. Stone


Tap, tap, tap, tap - tap – tap. That was all I could hear that night, way back in 1983 as the
rain outside splashed on
on the ledge of the window sill.
I was twelve years old, and I had never felt so alone at the time, even though I shared a dormitory room with three
other boys, all of similar age to me.

The room had no lamps turned on, it was so dark that I could barely see my hand in front of my face.
I had been sent to bed early that night
for throwing my food at one of the other kids; he had been bullying me
me all day.
So he was asking for it. I thought so at the time anyway. I had cried so much, after I had been slapped hard across the back of my bare legs. That my face was red and my eyes soar from salty tears, and wiping my tears away with my pajama sleeve.

The slaps were so hard that I had three bright red hand marks from the punishment for over an hour.
My abuser had also twisted my arm, which stung like a Chinese burn given by a school yard bully.

This didn’t stop me wanting to escape, which I had planned to do a few days prier to my incident with the food.
Unfortunately for me however, things never always went that simple in the
in the orphanage, as some one, or something always got in the way.

This time it was the local farmer’s dog that some times slept outside my dorm bedroom on the landing. I fell
over him as I tried to sneak down the hall in the dark, which then woke the night staff up.
Needless to say, I couldn’t sit down properly on a hard chair for days due to the good hiding I received, from
a member of staff that would put any well known dictator to shame.

I wanted to reach out to the world outside, beyond my bedroom window, beyond the green field where I knew the farmer kept his chickens, and far, far out of reach of being beaten with
belts, slippers and old bed posts.

Just to feel wanted and needed like normal kids. As I never knew what normal was. Neither did any of the
other kids I lived with.

One young kid I knew had no family what so ever. I think they were all killed in a terrible fire or something like that. I was never too sure of the full details. But he was a real loner, and was always bullied, even worse than me, so much in fact that on his ninth birthday, he was found hiding up a conker tree in the grounds of the home.

As for me, well I never had the guts to climb trees, or climb up onto the main roof, with a hope of threatening to throw myself off. All I knew was that I wanted to get out of that place.
Part of me was crying out for escape but another part of me was frozen stiff with fear on, the night I ran away.

This was actually the first attempt of the three times I tried to escape.
It took me a long time to gain the courage and sheer will power to run as far and as fast as my legs would carry
me.
I remember looking at the window, and I noticed it was still raining, I just kept wishing it would stop.
In fact I actually prayed to God for it to stop raining in time for me to start climb out of the window.

I never had a coat to wear, so I had put on all jumpers that I owned.
Which made me look ridiculous, but at least I’d keep warm. I knew that if
I didn’t try and get out, I’d probably never do it, and I’d have to spend
more years been tormented until I ended up like the kid who was found
in the tree.
I waited until I thought the other boys had fallen asleep, even though, I
knew that they weren’t all asleep, and I might be grabbed by one of them at the last minute, as I begin to climb
through the window.

I went under my bed, to get the bag in which I had some under wear and a pair of trousers.
Even though I didn’t know where I was going, and had even less idea what
I’d do when and if I ever got there. I just kept hearing this voice in my head which kept saying...

“Get out! Get out!”

'It was now or never', I thought.
It was then I felt a hand grab me by the leg really tight. As I felt it I had the sudden urge to shout out. But then
another hand went over my mouth; this is it, I thought I’m really going to
get a beating now.

To my surprise though, it was not the hands of an adult, so I knew it had to be one of the boys, and then I heard his voice, as he said.

'I’m coming with you'.

It was a boy a little older then me, and was another one of the kid's home’s tormented. He was constantly been
been bullied because of his actniey even though he didn't have it really bad.
It was also because he was scrawny like me. So it was used to fuel the fire.
One more issue for other kids to use to make someone else's life a misery, because they couldn't deal with thier own personal shit.


He had his arm around me, so I could only move slightly. I knew that I had no choice, but to let him come with me.
Otherwise, he would have made a lot of noise; enough to alert the staff that
slept in rooms near by. It was now or never…

Suddenly we heard a creaking sound coming from the corridor, the sound of heavy foot-steps echoed into the distance as some one walked from one room to another, probably checking
on the dormitories; which meant that the person walking down the corridor
would have caught us in the act.

We both rushed to our beds, trying desperately to kick our shoes off as we ducked under the covers.
Just as I managed to kick of my right shoe, the bedroom door opened.
Usually the light switch would have been clicked on, but the only light there was, came from the torch the
member of staff carried, so they could catch any kids out that were messing about.

I tried to stop shaking under my bed sheets, as the torch beam scanned the room, and casted shadows against
the back wall. I remember trying not to move, saying to myself, ‘keep
still keep still’.

Suddenly the torch beam vanished, as the member of staff walked out of the room.
It was then I realised who it was; as the smell of rolling tobacco filled the air and made me feel sick. I nearly threw up my evening meal.

I knew that the member of staff was
Bernice Sparrow or “Birdie” as we all knew her.
She was what many people in society would call an evil twisted old bat; she liked to bully the younger kids.
Mostly me.
At least it seemed that way.
I bore the brunt of most of her anger, if I had not done my chores or tried
to answer her back, whilst been told off. She hated that.

Once we knew she had moved away from the vicinity of the bedroom door, me and the other kid called Jay,
headed for the window, hoping that this time no – one would try and
interrupt our escape.

I slowly opened the sash window; it creaked and groaned like an old man getting up from a comfy chair, on a cold day. The rain had stopped by this time, but it was still bitterly cold.
I climbed out first as Jay kept watch, then he climbed out, as I watched out
for lights being switched on in other bedrooms.

As water dripped on us from the roof guttering above our heads, we squatted down and headed for the bottom of
the long drive way that lead up to the top.

This would be the road that to an as of yet unknown destination. One that we thought would get us as far away from that place as possible, so we could have a better life, and find a nice place to stay.

This was not the case, as we would both find out a little over four hours later.
We didn’t get very far, and we were eventually found by the police.
We were brought back with our heads hanging low; feeling very stupid and nervous, as we knew that once the police had given us their runaway boy lecture. We would get another talking to, then maybe a slipper across our backsides at the least.
I didn’t try running away again, until two years later.

To be Continued....
© Kaiden G. Stone