Run Away With Me;

Present Day

I don't keep track of the days, or months, or even the year. All I know is that when I ran from the fire to now I look different.

Shit, I have boobs!

Im just going to take a wild guess that I am 17. I look younger than I should, but I lived long enough to know Im not younger than 15. At the least my age range was 16-20. But I highly doubt I'm 18, 19, or 20 because I looked too young and I looked older than 16.

Who knows?

I stopped walking threw the marsh and woods..it was too risky. I got scared, especially from the gun shots. Idiots live in the south. They could have taken me for big foot, and Im not a hairy monster. I'm a girl.

Anyway, I decided to live in the city again. Like old times with momma. I've been staying in old homes with a few friends that are homeless too. There had to be about 27 of us. Age ranking from 14 to 57. I was close to everyone, and the kids in my group age looked up to me, I guess I was their roll model.

To survive though, we had to pull alot of Robin Hood stunts. Josh, he was about 20, stole most of the food. He got most of the food from walmart, but either way it was food and food is food. Tucker, a 15 year old, stole cleaning goods (like deo, body wash, razors, ect.) from houses he some how broke into. I can't get into more details because I dont understand how he does it. The youngest of the bunch, Jainey, pick pocket people in the middle of the street or beg for money. She was too cute, people couldn't say no. With the money she gained we would go to Goodwill or a cheap Thrift Market to buy clothes we so desperatly needed.

I kept track of Tucker and Jainey. They were too young to be getting in trouble, so if they did get caught I had to play the big sister act. When police looked to me then to the kids they thought I was mentally insane so I busted out, "we're half brothers and sisters." and I went into detail how I'm Asian, how Tucker was Spanish, and Jainey was Arabic.

For awhile though, I actually believed it.

Out of everyone in the group I was the shortest. I guess it was because of my Asian genes or possibly because I drank too much coffee (because coffee stunts your growth) but whatever it was, I was the shortest therefore, I was picked on. I had boobs, Hips, and a curvey figure. You can tell I was a girl by my features and what not, but I didn't act like a girl. No, I wasn't proper but I did excuse myself.

I had long jett black hair that waved itself to my butt. Surprisingly it was healthy. I had an all natural tan all year roung. It was lovely because during the winter I can show off my tan skin and flaunt it too pretty girls who were jealous. I had pale blue eyes I got from my mom. That was the only thing we shared in the genes pool. The rest was my dad, of course I developed his habbits and his features and he never came in contact with me.

How fucking ironic.

I was amazed how much I learned about myself during the years of wondering.

I loved music. All I wanted was to listen to music and forget about life. Some nights in New Orleans clubs would play music in the middle of the street and people gathered and danced, grind, twerk, and shuffled. Others, I found myself in a underground club where anyone can join and all night they would play techno music.

It was those nights I needed to help me stop thinking of my family.

Everything in my life couldn't be better. I had my friends. I had food. I had my health. That's what I need, and the clothes on my back.

Though, it seems like everything had one thing that I couldn't have or reach.

Love.

I never loved. Okay, I never loved someone in sexual ways or needed to be with them 24/7. I loved my friends, and I love the people looking out for me. I loved everyone, even if they hated me. but it seems like how far I can reach I can't find love.

Well, I didn't want to love because love consits of alot of work I know I won't be able to provide. Especially since I'm homeless.

It was night already. Josh somehow got fried chicken, potato salad, and shrimp. We had a feast going on, and plenty to go around twice. I was about to question how he got this, but I decided against it because he must have done something extreme to retrieve this.

"Fiver!" Jainey yelled, "Your favorite song is playing!"

"Thanks love!" I screamed with a full mouth.

My favorite song was 'Tisbury Lane' by Mae. My friend, Thomas, showed me the song after he told me why it reminded him of me.

I guess in someways I can see why but other times I can't. The song either way was lovely and some nights, if it played and you were up, you can see me cry. It was that lovely.

I got up humming the notes and walked to Josh.

He's staring at me like I'm insane as Im grabbing his hands and begging in my weird ways to dance with me. After a loud groan, and multiple eye rolls he gave in and pulled me aside to where we weren't in peoples way and started to dance in the moonlight.

My arms were around his neck and his hands were squeezing my waist. He kept looking down, cause lets face it: he danced like he had two left feet.

I let out a small laugh and Josh again groanded, about to give up and I yelled, "No!" and he replied, "Why?" and I said, "It's cute."

His short blonde hair was messy and sweaty and his green eyes still focused on the ground.

The song was about over and I was about to yell 'good job' when we heard a knock from the door and I was stung.

A guy, about my age, was at the door with a wide smile on his face introducing himself as Peter.

"Hey," Josh yelled, "you lost?"

"I guess I am in someway.." He laughed.

"Well, whatssup?" Thomas yelled.

"I heard music, and then I was this old home sitting ways from the levi, then I thought, 'this could be fun,' and to my luck I see you guys. Homeless folks." He rushed his sentence in excitement.

"you know," Tucker chimed, "I thought Homos was another word for homeless..."

"Thats interesting." I laughed at Tuckers silliness.

Tucker chuckled and decided to change the song on our radio while Peter stood there at the door frame.

He was wearing a navy shirt that bagged and light blue skinney jeans that looked like 80's skinney jeans and not the ones you'll see today.

"You're cute." Peter smirked.

Ha! What a funny joke.

"Yeah, thanks.." I mumbled.

Honestly, I can't deny. He was cute too. He was almost sexy for a homeless lad.

"No problem!" He yelled in a happy tone.

His happiness might be a problem..he was too happy.

He was also too cute.

Then it struck me: I never felt the need to run up to a guy and want to hug him for ever.