July 13, 2005, around 3:00 A.M.: 

     Midnight, my beloved black cat, followed me to door. I bid him farewell, yet, he wanted to come with me out the front door. I quickly shut the door leaving everything and everyone I love behind. I didn’t want anyone to know my secret. If they did, I thought everyone would hate me. I felt evil and damaged beyond repair. 

     I took off up the hill, on foot. My destination wasn’t too far away from the house I lived in at the time. However it is a long trek by foot and a dangerous journey at night, especially for a thirteen-year-old girl. My mania fueled my feet. I knew exactly where I wanted to end up going. I wanted to be near the tallest building in the city. I always had a love for skyscrapers.

    As it started getting light out, I finally saw the building on the horizon. I knew then that I was heading in the right direction. As the sun was rising, I moved onward. Eventually, I came out of an alley to find a road with a cemetery across from it. I stopped and took in my surroundings. Diagonally across from my right side and next to the cemetery, was a cluster of buildings. Standing tall and proud behind them was the tallest building. I had no idea how I managed to navigate that precisely.

    I walked over to the building and touched it’s smooth, hard surface. I made it and I felt a little triumphant. Then, I wandered aimlessly up and down the city streets for awhile having no idea where I was going. I scared business women and men as I passed them with my black lipstick and the scrawled black, jagged pattern around my eyes. In addition to my violet-and-black striped tights and my sort of “goth” attire. One black woman surprised me by smiling at me and saying, “Hi!” She seemed to be the only one not affected by my “look.”

     I walked back up toward the tallest building, when somebody called out with a chuckle, “You really scared me there!” I turned to look and saw an older black man smiling. “You look tired. Come. Have a seat.” He stood up and offered me his spot. I sat down next to a younger black man. They introduced themselves. The older man was called, Jake and the younger man was, David. Jake asked, “Are you on your way to work?” “No.” I replied. They proceeded to ask me more questions. I couldn’t hide it. I spilled everything. I told them I was a runaway. They exchanged very concerned looks. David then asked me a series of questions wondering why I left. He finally hit the correct answer and I hesitated. Then he knew why and didn’t ask anymore questions.“Are you pregnant?” “No.” “Are you being abused?” “No.“ "Are you mentally ill?” Only in my head I said, “Probably…”

    My stomach started growling and David gave me some money to get a bagel at the cafe, across the street. They told me to come straight back to them. I bought my bagel and obeyed them. When I got back, Jake was on a phone he borrowed from his friend. Nerves bubbled in my stomach. Then, David turned to me and ripped something off his keys. I saw that it was a crucifix. I had told him earlier, I was an atheist. He handed it to me. He said, “I have a gift for you. You don’t have to accept it, but I know someday it will mean something to you.” I hesitated then reached out and stuffed it into my messenger bag.

     Then, the policeman arrived and eventually I went to the adolescent behavioral health unit. I found out afterward that Jake was frequently picked up by the police for almost everything. Though that night he was a hero and will forever be a earth angel in my eyes. David’s crucifix still hangs as a memory above my bed of the two people who saved my life. Heroes forever.