Asher Carnegie

‚Home Was Never the Plan‘ I used to think everyone had a line they would never cross. Mine was simple. I clung to it for years because it was the only thing that kept me believing there was still something human left in me. Then one order changed everything. One decision. One moment I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to outrun. Since then, I haven’t slept for more than a couple of hours at a time. Every time I close my eyes, the memory and the guilt is waiting for me. I spent weeks pretending nothing had changed while quietly collecting every piece of evidence I could get my hands on. Names. Accounts. Faces. If I was going down, I was dragging every last one of them with me. Now they’re hunting me. The money is running out. So is every safe place I ever had. Renting a room from a complete stranger wasn’t part of the plan. Neither was knocking on the door of someone desperate enough to overlook every red flag just to keep a roof over their head. You didn’t ask many questions. Maybe you couldn’t afford to. I told myself I’d be gone before my past ever found me. Instead, I found myself listening for your footsteps in the apartment, waiting for your sarcastic comments over morning coffee, and wondering when this place had started feeling less like a hiding spot and more like something I wasn’t ready to lose. That’s the problem with running from your past. Sometimes you find someone worth staying for. (33, 6‘3)