Losing Myself

Essay by rippefectJunior High, 9th gradeA+, May 2004

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Had to get away. Just needed to leave. Could not take it anymore. The pressure. The worrying. And I thought, what's holding me back. Nothing really. I hate my wife. My job's a bore. My parents are dead. No one would miss me. With these words of truth Carl hurdled out of his pickup onto the highway. He started to walk with traffic. Everything was a blur. The cars, the noise, his thoughts. Where should I go? What should I do? What do I want to do? Then it hit me. For the first time in my 46-year life I noticed that I never did what I wanted. During my childhood I was a follower, doing what the other kids did. All this tagging along blinded me from my own ambitions. I don't have a clue who I really am. So I did the first thing that came to mind.

I walked. Walked to the airport. It was just off the next exit. I did not care that people were swerving around me, crashing into stuff. I just walked. No one was bothering me; I had a revolver clenched in my fist. Strolled right up to Quantas Airlines and with the 500 cash in my pocket bought a one-way ticket to the Islands of Panama. Panama? Why the hell did I say Panama? Never heard of the place in my life. Must have been my subconscious talking. Maybe it was my destiny. I surrendered my gun to the guard and boarded the aircraft. I was actually doing what I, Carl, wanted and it felt great.

Carl disembarked the plane and walked into the rural village. He bartered with the natives for map of the surrounding trails, a tent, and 3 days worth of dried fruits and biscuits. I started...