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lacerations.
    I’d never read comics before working at the comic book store, but during the down time, I’d started to devour every type of superhero comic I could get my hands on. They were an escape. A way to forget my horrible existence and that dick I had as a dad. I’d become a fan girl, a geek. I guess it was inevitable really.
    I was an introvert, wore glasses and was slightly overweight. I wasn’t fat, but I was big enough during my short stint at college to get bullied. I had an abusive dad and my mom had abandoned me. I think they’re some of the prerequisites for being a comic nerd.
    If it wasn’t for the comics, and the music I was able to download illegally via our crappy Internet connection, I think I’d have continued to cut myself for longer than I did.
    There was a comic convention happening on that night. My friend at the store had begged me to go with him, the same friend whose house I used as a bank. I’d turned the offer down at first, knowing there was no chance my dad would allow me to attend. We had a curfew in our house. If you broke it, you were punished. Everything was about control.
    Our time on the net was even monitored. I’d had to clear the history every time I downloaded music he didn’t approve of, which was anything he deemed as rebellious, and that was pretty much all I listened too. I’d even had to lie to him about my Nirvana t-shirt. I said it was a visual representation of my interest in Buddhism, which he approved of. He thought if I were more religious it would make me more subservient, more willing to do his bidding, and more forgiving of his transgressions.
    A major factor in my decision to risk the repercussions of breaking his rules with the use of the spare key was the fact that sneaking out to go to the comic book convention was pretty small in comparison to what I planned to do in a few months. That birthday was going to be the start of a new life for me. It was the reason I’d taken the job and was saving money.
    I was going to run away. I was going to escape the prison of my home and start a new life. Free from rules. Free from abuse. I wished I could take my brother with me, but he was too young and it was too risky, but I’d return once I had enough cash, that was my plan anyway. I think it was my mom’s too, and she never came back for us, but I wasn’t like her. I wasn’t like any member of my family. Even if I was, I’d have considered it an insult and denied it.
    I placed the paper bag in my backpack, being as careful as possible to make it a silent maneuver. I felt like a ninja about to embark on a mission in ancient Japan, but without the black pajamas and mask, although I was wearing all black. Not for camouflage reasons, it was just slimming. I put the backpack over both shoulders and fastened it tight, I didn’t want it to slide or slip down. I needed to be as noiseless as possible.
    My door wasn’t locked, I’d been being extra good for a few weeks in preparation, so it was just a case of making sure I could open it silently. Before I placed my hand on the handle I turned off my bedroom light and stared at my bed, wondering again if the pillows were enough to fool my dad if he did come to check on me. They looked better than they did with the light on, but they weren’t great. But they had to do.
    I wrapped both of my hands around the handle and rose up onto my tiptoes. I lifted the door up as much as the hinges would allow. I knew a trick for making sure the door didn’t make any unnecessary squeaks. I’d practiced the tactic a few times on previous nights. It was a well-planned operation to get to the comic book convention.
    I started to slowly walk backward, keeping the door lifted. It made a small clicking noise as the opening appeared for the first time. I stopped in that position, held my breath, and waited to see if anyone had heard. My brother’s bedroom was next to mine, and the walls in our crappy apartment were paper-thin, so he