Run

• Emilee O'Leary, Grade 12
• Short Story
• 2022

His name is dangerous to tell, but his story, I will share.
He was seventeen, halfway through his junior year. It was summer vacation. To describe his social life, he was an introverted teen, he was an orphan, who lived with a foster family. He was on the school’s baseball team.
His friend group is a quiet team, just casual, not all having the same backgrounds, but brought together by similarities.
He worked a part-time job at a fast-food restaurant, and a side-job. He dealt drugs in the shadows of the big city he lived in, despite making only 40% of what he sold, it was still additional cash.
It’s a quarter past five in the morning. He has woken up early, it is the second day of his summer vacation. He doesn’t plan on staying at home for it, he hates his foster family.
It was at least two hours walk before he’d reach his friend’s house, who had a car, a Jeep, with a trailer on the back, he and his friends planned to go to the coast for their holidays, only a weekend, as they each had to contribute money. It’d be a two night and three day beach vacation.
They left for the road by half past eight.
It was a long seven hour drive, his friends joking around, listening to music on the radio, occasionally switching to CD’s. No one was brave enough to sing along unless it was a very catchy song.
They arrived by about midday (three in the evening). They unpack and settle in, him bunking with three of his friends, they were a friend group that consisted of a total of eight.
No problem, he was just happy to just get away from the house.
First night, go to a beach party,. The sky was clear and the stars settled in the sky brightly, a calm tide and a beautiful setting sunset.
He stealthy sold the merchandise. Things were going smoothly.
That was at least until panic broke out, as someone was overdosing. 911 was called. He knew he may be identified, so he hid well in the crowd, witnesses left with the police. The guy who overdosed, died just minutes after leaving with the paramedics.
The following morning, he waited for the news to talk about last night's incident, then it came up, a drawing of his face. At that moment, he was quick, while the news was fresh. He packed his things and left, before the police could catch up with him.
Getting on a bus, he knew that the driver would have been driving for hours now, with no television and only the radio, he would not know his face. So it was safe, but he still wore a hoodie, in case of security cameras, and as the driver asked where he was going, he just said he missed his family.
Sitting in the third row from the back, he was not a dealer on the run.