I grabbed an Arizona and a few grapes from the fridge and slipped through the front door, unnoticed. I stood on my longboard and pushed forward before they'd notice. I was to go somewhere far away, to surround myself with the peace and tranquility I knew only solitude could bring. The wind blowing my hair into my mouth and sight of passing cars made me feel as though the chains of the restrictions and limitations brought by juvenility had been broken. I was tired of being considered a child, of having my privacy invaded by an overly concerned mother. I had no time to myself, and wanted to spend the last few minutes of the year in a way I'd truly be content - no, happy. I didn't want to be content or "ok" any longer. I wanted to be genuinely happy, even if it was for those few minutes. After my legs ached from pushing onward, I finally halted on an empty street and laid down on the board. After a few minutes of drinking tea and relishing on memories of the past year, my phone's alarm went off. Happy New Year.

This had only been a fantasy. I looked at my image in the mirror as I burned my hair and lathered makeup on. I was about to spend New Years with family, people who I had to be cautious around, people who I wasn't comfortable around. I'd have to eat food I didn't want to, I would have the fact that I was drinking non-alcoholic apple cider repeated in a jestful manner from the adults and I would be spending time around children I would rather not have been around. Happy New Year.