Countess Josephine

An Island Francophile with British roots rolled together with solid Americana, garnished with Asian/African heritage and a whisper of the Mediterranean, I love to practice random acts of kindness and senseless acts of beauty. Throwing some Sunshine your way - Enjoy!

Thursday, July 16, 2009

The Day I Ran Away

by Epiphany


When I was eight years old, I ran away from home. My brother and I  lived with my grand parents and uncle at the time. We could not understand why we could not live with our parents.  I wanted to take my little brother with me but after my uncle came in and caught us packing, my brother backed out of the plan. My uncle vowed to tell on us and that we would be in serious trouble when grandma came home. Big trouble.


So instead, I packed a small bag, gathered my favorite doll and snuck all the money from my grandmother’s secret hiding place, got dressed up as if I was going to church and off I went down the street to find a taxi. I knew how to catch a cab because I did it on a  regular basis to go to school.


I hailed a cab and told the driver I wanted to go to the Hilton Hotel. Unconcerned, he dropped me off and I paid the fare. I entered the hotel and went up to the desk and asked for a room. The lady behind the counter leaned over, looked at me and told me that I couldn’t possibly afford a room and I had to wait for my parents. I told her my Dad worked for the Hilton Hotel and it would be okay to give me a room that I could most certainly pay for a room and showed her my envelope of cash.


She smiled at me and said that I was their special guest would not need any money. I was a V.I.P. (a very important person) and they would take care of me in the back. The nice lady with the pretty smile led me into the big office behind the counter and told me to wait. I could hear her behind the door explaining the situation to her boss and I decided in my mind that they were not going to be helpful. When the new lady came into the room and asked me my name, I clammed up. They kept trying to find out where I was from and my name, but I would not talk. 


An hour later, I asked if I could see my dad and they asked what his name was. I told them. They couldn’t figure out which department he worked in, I did not know either. Maybe someone at home could tell us which department he works in the boss suggested easily. I said maybe and they asked me for the number. I told them. I realized in the limo ride home, I had been duped but, I was tired anyway. 


When we arrived, everyone who lived on our block was at my house. I was very scared. They were all so worried about me that my little adventure was quickly forgiven. My grandma kindly explained that my dad worked at the Hilton in another country and that is why I wouldn’t find him here. That same year, my brother and I were reunited with our parents and all was well again.


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