Saturday, about 3:40pm


I’m running. I won’t stop, only slow down. Going on and on.


About an hour before I had gotten into an argument with my parents and ran away. I just ran and didn’t stop. I knew that they couldn’t find me if I kept moving. It was getting colder. I decided to walk to my friend’s house and get a coat. He wasn’t there but I heard my parents calling them. I moved on. I walked and walked; not being noticed by anyone. A lone kid walking down the road with only a shirt, pants, and shoes.


I walk to one of the local grocery markets for samples. I didn’t bring money to eat. I had already walked three miles. I sit inside the store thinking. I decide to go to school and think there. I walk to the school and think. There isn’t any point. It was a lost cause. I can’t do this. I have no plan. I’m not prepared for this. I have nothing to survive, knife, cash, clothes, shelter. I have nothing. I walk back to the store and go on, directing my path to my friend’s house. I kept going, letting my whistling keep me uplifted.


My parents find me and pick me up. Nothing changes. I was away for three hours and nothing happens. Nothing changes. Nothing.


It was pointless. There wasn’t adventure. People didn’t notice me, a kid on the streets. Pointless. There was no reason to run away. It’s a lost cause.