Golden Eyes

Alicat

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This a story I'm working on. Please comment ^_^

“Hey, Adam, tighten that rigging,” John shouted above the wind that was now beginning to speed up, whipping up the ocean and making freezing, salty water spray in my face. The sky overhead shrouded us in an ominous grey cloak, obscuring any sunlight. The small fishing vessel rocked and swayed wildly as the mighty waves tossed it around like a ragdoll. Huge drops of rain fell from the monstrous sky, spattering my face and blurring my vision.
“I thought you said the forecast called for sunny, calm waters,” I yelled in response, struggling to stay upright as I fumbled with the wet ropes.
“It’s those damn weather people,” John said, grappling with the wheel, “They never get anything right.” John was a strong-willed man who was never afraid to say what was on his mind. His strong will is what kept him energetic and fighting even though his joints ached from age. The age clearly showed in the lines on his face and in his salt and pepper hair. He was my uncle, but I had lived with him for so long and he had treated me so kindly that it felt like he was my father.
I ran away when I was fifteen because my parents couldn’t handle me anymore and I couldn’t handle them. I was failing almost every subject in school, getting in fights constantly, hanging around with the wrong people, even ‘experimenting’ here and there, and I was unwilling to accept help. Hell, I was even escorted out of the school in handcuffs once. My mom practically had to drag me to the psychiatrist’s office because she thought that there was something ‘wrong’ with me. Mrs. Rosen, my psychiatrist, generically told her that what I did was nothing more than a case of adolescent rebellion. My mom didn’t believe that the diagnosis could be so easy.
“Isn’t there some kind of medication you can put him on to stop this unruly behavior-- like Ritalin or something?” she practically screamed.
“I don’t have Attention Deficit Disorder, Diane. The truth is, you just piss me off,” I told her with my usual smart-ass smile. The look in my mom’s cloudy blue eyes told me that if Mrs. Rosen hadn’t been in the room, she would’ve slapped me across the face with her perfectly manicured hands. Honestly, it didn’t faze me because I had seen that look many times before.
For a long time, I had known the truth about how my parents hated me. During one of the usual screaming matches about my poor grades, it somehow escalated into a who-could-say-the-most-hurtful-things match. I called my parents “Ignorant bastards,” while they told me that I was a mistake and that they wished that I was never born. Then I yelled two words as loud as I could, one starting with a F, and the other with a Y, before running upstairs and slamming the door to my room. Before I knew it, the tears started rolling down my cheeks, and tried to wipe them away, but they just kept coming like an endless waterfall. Then I took the hunting knife I had hidden in my bottom-left dresser drawer and, enraged, I began to stab at my bedroom walls. It wasn’t good for the drywall, but it relieved my anger. Right then, I realized something; I had never once thought to use the knife on myself. . .
Soon after that, I ran away from home, jumping out my window in the middle of the night. I couldn’t walk downstairs and go out the front door because my dad, or Richard, as I called him, was in the kitchen on his laptop, paying bills. Jumping out my window from the second story was risky, but that that was a risk I took. Anything to get away from them, I thought. I tried to be quiet as I hit the ground, but it turned out that my leap had been miscalculated I and landed into one of Diane’s rosebushes below the window. When I got up, I had cuts and thorns all over my body, and there was twinge of pain when I tried to move my left arm, but that didn’t deter me of my goal: to run like hell and never come back. With a backpack on my back that held a few changes of clothing, a jacket, some snacks, a map, a cell phone, and fifty bucks that I stole from Diane’s purse, I was then officially on my own.