i'll write

I left home three years ago, moved up north from Sacramento to Portland. I left a note for my family and told them I'd write or call or keep in touch. I didn't know how long I'd be gone. I only called from my cell phone, or wrote emails, so they couldn't come find me. They would. They cared. They were good, kind, caring people who were worried about me. They were everything I wasn't.

I was riding the streetcar a few days ago. I can't tell if it was her, but I think I saw my sister there--she's grown in the past couple years, changed her hair, changed her style, but I'd swear it was her. She was staring at me. I only just noticed as I got off. I can still just feel her watching me.

I don't know when she got to Portland. I don't know if she found me or if it's an accident. Three years I've got by without thinking about them or hearing from them, except sometimes on special occasions I'd call. There were no faces, no pain--just their phone-distorted voices trying not to cry. Now she's here and I know she knows it was me. Is she going to come find me? What will I do? Can I run away again? Seattle's not far from here, or Vancouver. Or there's lots of small towns I've only ever driven through. I'm sure I could find work or a good place to stay there.

Or maybe I shouldn't run. It's only fair if she's caught me after a three year head start.