I looked around my pale blue room. It has only been mine for two weeks. In front of me on my quilt covered bed was my dark blue, small duffel bag. It had all my items in it. This would have looked like a very touching movie if, this place had been close to me. If the people I was leaving had been close to me it would be even more touching. As I took one last look around my room I thought of how I decided on this dramatic decision.

It all started when I first arrived here. Ellen, my foster mom, decided that for my first night she would take me out for a movie. In my opinion the movie was cheesy. Nothing about it was real and everything they did and said was expected. But something about that movie stuck with me. I couldn’t put my finger on it for a week. Then it hit me.

The main character ran away! Really there seemed like there was no reason for her to run away. She had this almost perfect life. She was beautiful, smart, popular, funny, liked, and respected. But most of all she had a family. She had this big happy family, too. Her family consisted of her, mom and dad, two brothers, one sister, aunts and uncles, cousins, grandparents, great-grandparents, great uncles and aunts. Everything! She was perfect to go with her perfect life and family. Oh and did I mention she was a supermodel. But behind all that was a different girl. She was misunderstood. She wanted to be heard. That is our only connection. I am highly misunderstood.

It has always been that way. Since my parents left me. That is how I decided to run away. It would be the answer to my prayers. I could search for my parents and along the way find my true love. I could have my own adventure. I could live my own life.

It was perfect! I had to wait a week though. First, I had to do some research. I had to figure out where my parents lived. It didn’t take long. You see they are trying to move soon. Except that the house is a piece of poop and they are selling it for a ridiculous price. It has been on the market for two years. After I found my parents address I had to do some planning. They live in Boston. I live in New York. That is only about six hours from here by car. Obviously I can’t drive. I’m only 14. I also can’t walk. That would take forever. I decided the best way was to go by bus. It was cheap and faster than walking. One more problem. Food. I was going to have to buy that. Or I could take some from old Ellen. It is only for six hours I just needed breakfast, lunch and dinner. Than I could go to McDonalds or something for breakfast the next day. One more thing I needed to do before I packed I needed money for the ride and McDonalds. I figured my lifetime saved $10 would not be enough. So I got a job. For the past week this summer I helped this old lady for a week. Twenty bucks a day.

I took a deep breath. Then I slid out of the house. Into the cold night. I was actually doing this. Nothing to lose.

As I trudged along the road I remembered my parents. Most foster children don’t remember their parents. They say I’m lucky. They say it is good I remember my old life. I don’t think so. It makes me depressed. Why should I remember the saddest moments in my life? Why should I remember the day my parents threw me out on the streets? Remembering is worse than not knowing. Not knowing makes it seem like it never happened. I wish I could forget.

I looked around. It was raining. Actually it was more like the clouds were trying to drown me. No one was outside. I don’t blame them. First of all it’s raining. Also it is midnight. I felt alone not scared though. I have been wandering the streets before. When I was four that is when my parents left me.

Now I know what you are thinking. Why would someone abandon their only child? Especially at four years old! There are a couple of things about my parents you should know. First, they are alcoholics. Second, at the time they were considering a divorce while they were drunk because my dad drank more than my mom. Another thing about my dad is that he abused my mom while he was drunk. Finally, along with all that they were addicted to drugs. I know, I know. Why would I want to go back to that right? My life has never been normal but, it was the closest thing I had. Besides the real reason they left me was because on my fourth birthday they decided to go to some counseling. Five months later they decided they wanted to restart their life together. Without their baby. So they left me.
I got to the bus station at 1:00. I tried to dry myself as much as possible. I didn’t have much luck.
The bus to Boston arrived at 1:30. I paid my seventeen dollars. And took a seat in the front. I put my bag next to me so no one could sit next to me. And the bus rolled down the road. This is it. I’m going home.