Ran So Far Away

I just lived in the TV and the magazines that summer. Posters of Sheena Easton and Slash flickered blue against the walls of my room. “Sleep tight,” I’d say, and leave the TV on until morning. Some nights, I’d dream right into a music video.

But nothing was better than a Flock of Seagulls – sometimes I’d dance, and watch the TV through the mirror, and it was like we were all on one big screen, me and the flock. I’d sing the chorus, “and I ran, I ran so far away,” loud enough so my stepdad could hear. It was years later that Kyle said they’d shut the living room door to watch sitcoms – they never heard me.

“Also,” Kyle said, “that song isn’t even about running away.”

Kyle remembers a lot. He said our parents were worried about me until I “got better” after school started back up.

I don’t remember anybody worrying about me. I do remember the first week back. Somehow I got suckered into dancing in the AV room, and a kid told a kid, and overnight I became a “flamer”.

I stopped dancing after that.

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