Standing In The Shadows
April, 1996 - Topeka, Kansas

I made sure that when I closed the door, it made as little noise as possible. I did not need them waking up right now. I walked down the steps of the front porch, down the path, until I reached the road my house was on. I turned back once, staring at the large two-story house before me. The tears that had ended moments before returned, in full force. Sniffling, I wiped them away, adjusting the bag on my back.  

The thought of staying crossed my mind, but I immediately pushed it away knowing that it would have been an even stupider decision than the one I had chosen. Wanting no more than to get out of there and hopefully rid my mind of the regret and guilt I was feeling, I turned away and began my 15 minute walk to the high way.  

As I passed the familiar parks, roads, houses and corner shops, illuminated by the street light every few meters, I became aware that this was the last time I would be seeing it all. More tears fell, but each I wiped away. Controlling emotions was never a strong point of mine.  

I quickened my pace, hoping to get to the high way as fast as possible. The quicker I was out of this hell hole, the better. The memories would be gone, and I'd be able to start over again. No more hurt, no more pain, no more suffering.  

Before I knew it, I had reached the high way. It wasn't so busy at this time of night, but still plenty of cars came rushing through.  

Hitch-hiking. That's what I intended to do. I had no clue how to do it, or how long I'd be out here before I found a ride...if I found a ride at all. With a heavy sigh, I stuck my arm out and my thumb up, hoping for a kind-hearted person to pick me up and drive me away from this stupid place I used to call home.  

That's when it hit me. I didn't know where I was going, or even wanted to go. I barely knew any of my relatives, and I barely had any friends outside of the state. I was screwed. It all seemed so much easier in the movies. The character would go onto the main road, hitch-hike for under five minutes before getting picked up, and then led away to somewhere else, to a better life. They didn't care where they went, as long as it was somewhere far away. That's what I would do...I would let the wind carry me where ever it wanted to. It seemed kind of fun in a way - not knowing what was going to happen next, living on the edge. It all seemed so alluring, making the whole situation a little easier.  

Getting too deep into my thoughts, I didn't notice the car that had pulled up before me. The passenger side window rolled down. Cool. Power windows. The driver, male, looked up at me with a smile.  

"Hey, little lady," he said. He had brown hair, brown eyes, and a neatly trimmed moustache. He appeared to be in his early thirties, or close to.  

"Hi," I said in a tone that obviously said I was scared. After all, this was a man who was probably double my age, who was also willing to pick me up - the both of us complete strangers. Can we say, child molester?  

"Hitch-hiking?"  

"Yeah,"  

"Hop in then," He gave me a smile. A warm, caring one. I was surprised, to say the least. I expected something more along the lines of a devious and sly grin, but it was nothing like that. His eyes, they held a depth of trust, sincerity and warmth. Something I rarely saw.  

If I turned down his offer, who knows how long it could be before I found another one. I nodded hesitantly at the man and opened the door. I sat down in the car and placed my bag at my feet.  

"I'm Chris," he said, maneuvering the car back onto the high way.  

"Summer," I replied nervously. Chris stole a quick glance at me, sensing my unease.  

"I'm not gonna bite, ya know," he assured me.  

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I nodded. I looked around his car. It wasn't super neat, but it wasn't super messy either. Between the two of us were 2 full cups of coffee, a box half full of cinnamon donuts, a large bottle of Coke and a rather large packet of opened Doritos. On the dashboard in front of me was a map folded in every which way. On closer inspection, I saw a city marked Tulsa, it was circled with a thick red marker. There was a place named that?  

"So, Summer, where ya headed?" Chris asked me.  

How was I supposed to know the answer to that when I barely knew what I was doing? Think, Summer, think!  

"Um...Tulsa," I lied.  

"Really?" he raised an eyebrow, "That's where I'm headed,"  

"Oh,"  

"Yeah, I'm visiting friends,"  

"Oh,"  

Chris chuckled, "For a girl, you're pretty quiet,"  

I shrugged, "I'm not an ordinary girl," Damn right I wasn't. Nowhere near. For if I was, I would not be having a conversation like this in some stranger's car.  

Silence. I hated it. But that's what overcame us. Well, silence if you don't count the oldies tape Chris had playing. I couldn't pin point what exactly the song was...but I knew it. It was soft...so soothing...so calm, that I yawned. Chris noticed.  

"You should get some rest. The next motel isn't for about another few miles," he explained.  

I nodded, resting my head against the window. I yawned.  

"Thank you," I said quietly.  

Chris looked at me, a comforting smile upon his lips, "Anytime, Summer,"

"Why couldn't you be prettier? Huh?" the woman scolded, angry tears running down her face, "Why did you have to turn out like this?" She cornered the sobbing girl.  

"I-I-I'm s-s-sorry," the young girl whimpered.  

"You're not sorry!" the woman hissed, "You're not sorry at all!" She took another step forward, making sure the girl had no escape.  

The young girl, no older than 12, stared up at the woman. Fear was evident in her eyes, her voice and her actions - however little they were. She had gotten used to this routine that had begun years ago, but each time the situation presented itself, she showed no signs of taking a stand to it. She accepted the abuse. She accepted the pain. She accepted the hurtful insults. The reason why, was beyond her.  

"Why couldn't you be smarter? Why did you have to let us down?" the woman shouted shaking her fist, while her other hand held the girl's shoulder.  

She continued to sob, not knowing what else to do. She had no way out, no one to turn to. So she just sat there. Tears flowing freely.  

"You were a bad mistake, Summer! A big bad mistake! You hear me, Summer? Did you hear me? Summer! Summer! Summer..."

"Summer! Summer!" someone said, grabbing hold of my shoulders and shaking me slightly. Needless to say, they had woken me up.  

"Huh?" I asked, rubbing my eyes of sleep. I looked around me. I was still in Chris' car. It had all been a dream, yet it had seemed so real. As if it were happening all over again. I sighed in relief that it was nothing but a memory...something I had hoped would fade away in time. Hoping sooner, than later.  

"Are you alright?" Chris asked, looking directly at me with eyes filled with concern.  

I nodded, though unsure of myself still. But Chris seemed to buy it, and that was all I needed.  

"OK, well, we're at a motel," he said, motioning out the window, "We can crash here for a while and then in the morning we can start driving again. Sound good?"  

"Yeah," I nodded as Chris and I got out of the car, each carrying a back pack. We walked through the parking lot, and instantly I noticed that it was not a motel at all, yet a bed and breakfast. The large sign read "Victoria's Secrets - Bed & Breakfast" in fancy old English style writing. Chris and I walked through to what resembled a lobby, where an old lady sat, knitting a piece of clothing of some sort, using pastel colors. Upon hearing the bell that rang when we walked through the door, she looked up, smiling as she pushed her thick framed glasses higher up her nose.  

"May I help you?" she asked politely, placing her knitting aside.  

"Yes. One room please," Chris answered.  

One room? I barely knew him...and he wanted to share a room with me? I stared at the old lady, my mouth agape, who was now handing Chris a form to fill in. As soon as he finished with it, he handed the clipboard and pen back to the old lady, and turned to face me.  

"Are you OK sharing a room? I mean, I thought it would be easier, ya know?" he explained.  

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I nodded mutely. Chris smiled at me before taking the key to our room - room fourteen up on the second floor. I followed him up the stairs, fidgeting with the strap of my bag nervously. Silently, we walked down the long narrow hall, until we came to a cream colored door, marked with black digits, one and four. Chris stuck the key into the slot, turned the knob, opening the door. He felt around the wall until he came across the switch, bringing light to the darkness in the room.  

We both stepped into the room, and instantly I noticed how it resembled a warm and cozy house, something I was unacustomed to. The walls that bordered the room were cream, the windows that stretched from the ceiling to the floor were framed in dark brown wood with white lace curtains. The bed, petruding out from the right wall, was made out of cherry colored wood. It was a four-poster bed with white and cream lace drapes hanging down. At the top of the bed were at least six different sized pillows, all matching the colors around the room.  

"One bed?" I squeaked out, not knowing I had said it until Chris had turned to me.  

"Uh... yeah, sorry about that," he replied sheepishly, setting his bags down on the coffee table by the floral couch, "They had no more rooms with double beds. In fact, this was the last one they had left,"  

"Oh," was all I could say as I nervously placed my bag down at my feet and closed the door behind me.  

"You can take the bed, Summer. I'll sleep on the couch if you want," Chris suggested with a slight shrug of his shoulders. That wasn't right. No matter how much I wanted to sleep in the comfortable bed, Chris had paid for this room. This was his money and he deserved it.  

"No, no," I shook my head in protest, "You take the bed. After all, you paid for it," I said, walking towards the couch.  

Chris smiled, "I insist, Summer,"  

I sighed. I wanted that bed so much, but Chris had been kind enough to pick up a stranger, plus let her spend the night with him, no money asked. After five minutes or so of Chris insisting I take the bed, and me fighting back with reasons why he should sleep in it and reassuring him a hundred times over that I would be okay on the couch, he gave in with a sigh.  

"You know, I don't know how you conned me into letting you sleep on that couch... " Chris trailed off, shaking his head.  

"S'okay," I said, pulling off an utterly fake smile, "I can deal,"  

After we both finished with our businesses in the bathroom, we were both ready to go to bed. Chris lay on the bed, resting against the head board, reading over some papers, his glasses propped on the end of his nose. I walked towards the couch, and opened the front pocket of my bag, searching around for my diary.  

"Summer?" Chris asked. I turned to look at him as he took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes, setting his papers down in a neat stack on the night stand.  

"Yeah?"  

"Can I ask you a question?"  

I knew he was bound to ask it. I just never wanted to admit that the time would come. He wanted to know about me, my past, and why the hell a thirteen-year-old girl, who seemed pretty average on the outside, would be running to Tulsa, of all places.  

"Would this question lead to me explaining me and my past?" I asked back with a slight grin. Chris laughed, and nodded. Sighing, I sat cross-legged on the couch, leaning against its arm.  

"Where would you like me to begin?"  

"From the start?" he suggested, "If you're okay with that,"  

"Yeah, I am," I said, running my fingers through my hair, before grabbing a pillow and hugging it close to my chest. It was then that I realized I didn't know where to start. Would he even believe my story? Would he think I was insane?  

"How 'bout you ask something and I'll answer," I suggested.  

"Okay, then," Chris answered with a satisfied shrug, "How old are you?"  

"Thirteen. I just turned thirteen on the fourteenth of March,"  

"Really?" Chris asked in shock, for some unknown reason. Both his eyebrows arched.  

"Yeah, really. That would make me, like, thirteen and a month old," I stated, hoping that whatever I said made sense.  

"You're from Topeka?"  

"Yep,"  

"Why are you going to Tulsa?" The bomb had been dropped. It was time to tell this kind stranger why I was headed to some small town I had never even heard of.  

"Well, would you like the long, director's cut version? Or the edited version?" I questioned playfully.  

Chris chuckled, "How about I try the long version?"  

I nodded, despite how much I did not feel like confiding in some person I had only known for less than a few hours, "Well, I guess... I guess it began when I was like eight or something. My parents were always pushing me to the full. They were always pressuring me to do so well in school and other things. And when I didn't reach their standards, they would make it their job to constantly remind me what a failure in life I was, had become, and always will be. I mean, hell, I was eight for God's sake! I guess that continued up until now. They never stopped. They always insulted me and my life. Everything I did was, like, a complete let down to them. From my grades, down to the clothes I wore. There even came a time when the clothes I wore were dictated by them. They disapproved of me. And I guess it just makes me believe that they don't love me, and that I'm never good enough for them. But, it's like they won't let me be myself, ya know?"  

I looked up at Chris and his facial expression. He looked deep in thought as he hung on every word that escaped my lips, so I continued.  

"And then, like, I just couldn't take it anymore. I used to be able to push it all out of my head and live my life without it getting in the way. But it's come to a point where I believe everything they throw at me. I'm not good enough for them, or for anyone else. I guess... tonight I just felt like I had enough of it. I had to get away from there, I couldn't stay with people that didn't love me. So, I decided to run away; which brings us to now,"  

I turned to Chris again, and watched him as his face full of concentration turned into that of pity, compassion and comfort. I waited for his verbal response to what I had just told him.  

"You're a strong girl, Summer," he said warmly, "To make it this far... you must have a lot of will. I admire that in you,"  

And you know, for the first time in my whole life, I smiled genuinely, sincerely; I really meant it. What Chris had said to me, no one had before. It made me feel special, something I had never experienced before.  

"Thank you," I said quietly to Chris, sprawling out on the couch, pulling the comforter over my body, "G'night, Chris,"  

"'Night, Summer," he said, before switching off the lamp.  

I closed my eyes, and noticed for the first time that I had been crying.

"So where are you staying once we get to Tulsa?" Chris asked we passed a sign that said Tulsa was only another ten miles away.  

I shrugged, "I dunno. Can you drop me off on the main street or something? I wanna see if I can hitch hike my way to Cali.," California sounded good. If not for the fact that it was home to so many stars and celebrities, than for the fact that it was so many hundreds of miles from Topeka.  

"California?" Chris questioned, a curious, yet parental-type, tone in his voice, "Why so far away?"  

"Hence far away," I giggled.  

"Summer . . . " Chris started.  

"Chris . . . " I mocked him. Over the past twelve or so hours that we had known each other, Chris and I had grown a close bond. We laughed at the same jokes, hated the same kind of people, and liked the same music, plus much more. He was like an older brother to me. And I liked that. I knew he was someone I would be able to rely on in the future. 

"You're not seriously considering California, are you?"  

"Why not?" I asked in my defense, "I mean, it's California! Who wouldn't wanna move there?"  

Chris sighed, "You know I respect your reasons for running away, not to say that I approve of it, but I respect it and all. You know that, right?"  

I nodded, and he continued.  

"But I don't approve, nor do I respect, you moving to California. I mean, come on, isn't that just a little too . . . well, out of your league?"  

"Nothing's too out of my league," I said confidently, sitting up right and straightening out my shoulders. I felt a gush of power and pride pulsate through my body as I said that.  

Chris laughed, "Not too burst your bubble, Summer, but it is. I mean, you're thirteen for Pete's sake! How are you supposed to survive on your own in California, with a mere two hundred dollars, might I add,"  

"Two hundred forty-eight dollars," I corrected him, "Hey, I made it this far, who's to say that I can't make it all the way to the west coast?"

"Summer, California is . . . well, it's California," Chris said with a sigh, "I don't see how a thirteen-year-old would be able to survive on her own, with only two hundred and forty-eight dollars,"

"I can do it. I swear I can," I stated firmly, "Look, I appreciate this, this whole looking after me thing. But I can take care of myself. Honest," I looked up at Chris and gave him my most pathetic puppy dog eyes and pouting lips. To tell the truth, I didn't know how I was going to survive in California on my own.

On my own.

Those three words hit me all of a sudden. On my own . . . means I would have no one but me. I would be by myself. Could I handle that? Breaking my trail of thoughts was Chris' deep sigh once more.

"Summer, look, I'm visiting a friend in Tulsa. His sons are gonna be recording a record in California soon. A week, to be exact,"

"And . . .?" I questioned, not knowing what this had to do with me moving to California.

"And, I guess I'd feel a little more reassured if you stayed with us for that week, and then go with us to California. If by the end of a month you decide you can't handle California, I'm sending you back to your family," I frowned, but he kept going on, "But, if you decide you like it, you can stay. With us,"

My mouth dropped open. Chris was the most kind-hearted man I had ever met. First he offered me a ride, and now a temporary home. I owed him more than he could imagine.

"You'd do that . . . for me?" I managed to squeak out.

Chris smiled and nodded, "Why not? You're like my little sister now,"

I smiled wildly. I don't think anything could have wiped my grin off. Things seemed to be looking up already.

I nervously shifted in my seat. For some reason, entering Tulsa made the seat rather uncomfortable. Well, not the seat; me. I mean, I didn't even know these people Chris was saying I could stay with. Hell, I barely even knew Chris.

From what Chris had told me, it was a rather large family. Henson? Hoonson? Hunson? Hanson! That was it. Their last name was Hanson. Apparantly, there were seven kids. Ouch . . . I feel sorry for their mom. Seven children?! What was she thinking?! She must have a high tolerance for pain. Anyways, back to the family. Chris had said he managed the three eldest kids. They were in a band. I thought that was cool. But Chris had said they were religious people. Now, religion isn't really my thing. I'm a Christian and all, but I can honestly say that I don't remember the last time I went to to church. So what? Bite me.

"We're almost there," Chris said, interrupting my thinking, "Just another minute or so,"

I nodded and tightened the ponytail my hair was in. My palms were sweating more, the seat was becoming unbearable, and my fidgeting grew rapid. Chris seemed to notice, as he chuckled softly.

"Lighten up, Summer," he instructed, "They're extremely nice people. I'm sure you'll be fine,"

"What if they hate me?" I spat out. What if they decided I was a freak and kicked me out? I hadn't really thought of what would happen to me if they did that. But I had clear image of me roaming the streets at night, shivering. Nuh-uh. I was not gonna let that happen. If that meant I would have to kiss their asses and pretend to be a good little girl, well then, shall be it.

Chris rolled his eyes, "They won't hate you. In fact, I'm sure they'll love you,"

"Cut the crap, Chris!" I exclaimed, "Everyone hates me! What makes you think they're gonna like me?"

"Summer, give them a chance," Chris turned to look at me, "Please?"

I huffed and crossed my arms in front of my chest, "Fine. No promises though,"

Chris gave me a smile and then looked out the window. It was only then that I noticed we had come to a stop outside a large, two-story house. I gulped, guessing this was where the Hansons lived.

"Out you go," Chris said as he himself got out of the car. I hesitantly pushed my door open and got out, straightening my jeans in the process. I grabbed my bag from the floor of the car and shut the door. I looked at the house once more. It wasn't huge, though it wasn't tiny either. It seemed . . . cozy.

"This is it," Chris told me, pointing to the house, "C'mon, let's go in,"

"OK," I managed to say quietly as the two of us made our way up the path. As we neared the house, I heard the squeals of little children, the empty threats of parents, and music - the heavy beating of a drum dominating it all.

Upon reaching the front porch, Chris rang the doorbell. The melodic sound rang through out the house as the other sounds came to a halt. But not for long. There came a pounding sound, much like that of a herd of elephants. And then, the moment I dreaded ever since Chris had made the offer, came. The door opened.

part two