The Ill-Advised Venture To Remember a Lifetime | Mixed Media Project for the Daily Spark Contest in the Creative Sparks Community

It was two light taps on the pane outside in rapid succession that alerted Carrie Worthington the path was clear. She jerked her head toward the window and smiled. It was the turmoil inside that caused the anticipation of her new adventure to quickly fade. Her pulse quickened as she detected practiced footsteps make their way up the stairs and head toward her room. After all, she wasn't supposed to be home that time of day from high school.

The unfamiliar noise Mrs. Gertrude Worthington detected the moment she landed on the second floor of their home floated in her direction. It wasn't the usual heavy metal beat from her high school freshman daughter's room. She tiptoed cautiously, then immediately yanked on the doorknob, then flung open the door. Her own pulse quickened as she stood scouring the room.

Nothing. Except the lone purple sock she spotted near the window.

Down the ladder previously placed against the window Carrie scurried. Waiting for her at the bottom was sophomore, Cody Kingston, who braced the rungs against his body. He extended his hand and helped Carrie jump to safety before they repositioned the ladder next to the trash bin.

Away they ran through the side fence and down the street toward the corner. His small motorbike waited.

No one witnessed two teens riding away from the quiet suburban neighborhood, a boy in front, and a girl behind him, her backpack sparkling in the midday sun.

But the fun of daylight soon turned to the darkness of night. The light jacket she packed didn't take into account the chill that would descend upon them. With only twenty dollars, they didn't want to waste half of it on a night's stay at a motel.

She searched her bag, but the match to her favorite purple sock was missing. Frowning, tears welled up. She didn't want to admit that already she missed her home; her family; her room; and her way of life.

But the time had passed for regret. The decision she didn't make but agreed to was behind her. In front was the big city. At least in her mind, it was big.

Carrie's teeth chattered so hard that she bit down on her braces. Her gums began to bleed.

Thoughts of Monday morning headed to school on the bus flashed across her mind. Her friends laughter and antics brought a hint of a smile. She dug her hands deeper into the jacket and snuggled close to Cody who was snoring. A jab in the side startled him.

A mist rolled down from the hillside and covered the dense trees where they'd stopped to rest. Avoiding the official rest areas alongside the highway was Cody's plan. While she searched her backpack for a change of socks, she gasped.

"Where's my other purple sock?" Before Cody could deliver a bewildered response, she emptied the sack and rummaged through the few items she'd packed. He feet were wet, and now she only had one sock.

Impatient, Cody jerked the sock from her hand. "Why make everything a big deal? Stop acting like a baby!" he hissed. It was the first time Cody had spoken to her in that tone. A tone she was all too familiar with from her parents. She recoiled and waited for him to provide a solution.

Instantly, he removed a pocket knife and cut her precious purple sock in half.

"Here. Put one half on one foot, and the other half on the other. Do. You. Understand?" He stared at her for a long moment before throwing both ends into her lap. Slowly, Carrie placed the warm, dry, purple sock on both feet. She shuddered. If that was his solution, then I'd better learn to navigate my own way, she thought.

She didn't realize how true her thoughts would become reality.

He reached into his own coat pocket and retrieved two small white pills. Before she could gulp them down, he handed her a joint. She smiled and accepted.

In fact, she accepted anything Cody had to offer. It was better than the situation she just ran away from. Cody felt the same of his home environment. And only those two knew the extent of the brutal circumstances each endured.

At least they thought so. But it was only Friday night. And they were hundreds of miles from the "big city".