Freewrite on Childhood

Prompt: Tell a story from your childhood from the perspective of the age you were. (Imitating the voice of Self-Portrait)

Sometimes I lie to my parents and ride my bike down to the beach all alone.

I like to do it on cloudy days, when the wind is blowing, gusty and cool off the gray water. I can feel that wind threatening to blow me over as I ride across the little stone bridge, but the suddenness of it no longer thrills me. I don't wanna forget what it's like to fall off my bike but I've gone so many times that pedaling can't distract me from my head.

They always believe my lies, too. It's cause they think I'm a good kid. I'm smart, I do okay in school, I don't argue with them, cause Mom will get angry and Dad'll look disappointed at me until I can't look at him anymore. So I never fight. I just nod and nod and finally they let me go to my room and read but sometimes, sometimes the book won't let me get out, I'm still in that room, in that house, and the birds are all quiet outside and the wind is like a roar from very far away and I don't want to be there anymore.

I know I'm smart because I get good grades and I read really fast and I can make plans on how to get out the door while my mom is folding laundry and I remember to close the squeaky screen slowly. I'm afraid they'll look out the window as I ride away and stop me or yell at me or they might think I'm running away. I'm not running away. I'm not a bad kid. I just want to go and be with the storm and the waves. It's easier if I don't ask.