Journey Away Dear Reader, I am warning you that the diary you are about to read can lead to many things. If you wish to continue on, you must never share the information with anyone, rather they ask or not. This information is classified and under my own individual rights, I, Asia Myers, have the ability to personally find anyone and everyone who intrudes into my private journal. If you wish to continue, you may go on. If by any means, however, the words of this book escape your mouth, I shall leave you with two final words, "Good Luck." Chapter One: Opening. December 15, 1989. I am now planning my escape, as today being my 17th birthday. One more year, I could not possibly wait until freedom is officially declared onto my behalf. I crave the #life of the people I see on the television. They look so happy, and free. Yes, free. That's all I've ever wanted. To tie a bandana in my hair and let the blonde strands fall down. Wearing a crop top with high waisted shorts, and even those sunglasses that make you look smart but at the same time give that supposively 'hipster' look. I'd wear my combat boots and walk through the rain. I wouldn't be afraid. But right now, my strict parents have sent me to my room to study again. I'm failing geometry. How they expect me to bring my grade up from a 63% to a 90% or higher, I have no idea. Especially considering that it is almost the end of the 7th week of our nine week second semester, and tomorrow is the final test. I, being the most reasonable in the family, know that I shall never be able to raise my grade up that far in 15 days. And this is the reason why I am in my room right now, with my door locked tight, sitting at my desk with my headphones in, volume turned all the way up, planning the way for a journey that will lead me to the #life I'm looking for. December 17, 1989. Well, easy enough to say I didn't get to write here yesterday. I have been out under restriction from all electronics. Why? After getting an outstanding C+ instead of the A that was apparently expected, it was obvious that I hadn't studied. The first words I heard as I got into my mother's van was "76?" I remember smiling, proudly. I'd thought it had been a pretty good grade, but it's never enough for them, really. "Yes, mum. 76! Are you not proud?!" I had watched as her brows had narrowed and her cheeks had became red with fury. "You're grounded, Asia," was the last thing she said to me this week. Ive been left here to study once again, but truthfully, I have not a single idea why. Geometry courses for the semester are over, and my mother and father need to learn how to deal with that. I'm sorry I'm not good enough, again. But with just a few more pennies from chores, the amount of money I have will be good enough for my ticket out of here. December 19, 1989. Words cannot describe my need for freedom anymore. I believe that it has come to the point in which I need to stop writing about what I am going to do, and instead, do it. At this exact moment, I am writing (of course) but at the same time, I am counting the hundreds of pennies, nickels, dimes, and quarters I've save up over the past 5 years. So far I have counted $96.53 and I am not even a tenth of the way through the first jar. I have accumulated most of the money from my work on the streets after school on Mondays and Wednesdays. I take requests and play them on my guitar, and the people who come to watch usually have a big tip to offer. In the busy streets of New York, it's not hard to get tourists to come and see, either. Now moving onto my plan, if I have around $1000 (hopefully more) I can most easily buy a cheap train ticket that could get me to Dallas before my parents found out. I just need the money, and a little luck. I'm halfway done with this jar now and I have about $600 not including the cash in my wallet. I'm thinking I might have enogh for this adventure of mine. Who knows, this could be ichange everything, couldnt it?
