Runaway

Prologue

The night I decided to run away, the air was thick with the scent of rain and impending freedom.

My hands trembled as I packed the last of my belongings into a small, worn backpack. I could hear the muffled sounds of my parents arguing downstairs, their voices like jagged glass slicing through the silence.

My bruises still ached, a physical reminder of every reason I needed to leave.

For years, I had endured their wrath, each day a new battle in a war I never chose to fight. The walls of our house, once painted in cheerful colors, now felt like the bars of a prison cell.

My heart pounded in my chest as I quietly opened the front door, the cool night air rushing in to greet me like an old friend.
With each step away from that house, I felt a mix of fear and exhilaration. I had no clear destination, just a desperate need to escape the darkness that had suffocated me for so long.

The streets were eerily quiet, save for the occasional rustle of leaves in the wind. Every shadow seemed to hold a secret, every corner a promise of something new.

I reached the bus station just as the first drops of rain began to fall, mingling with the tears I hadn't realized were streaming down my face. I bought a one-way ticket to anywhere but here, clutching it tightly as if it were a lifeline.

As the bus pulled away, I watched my old life fade into the distance, replaced by the unknown.

This was my chance to start over, to find out who I was beyond the pain and fear. I didn't know what the future held, but for the first time, I felt a glimmer of hope. And that hope was enough to keep me moving forward.