I was 17 years old, life was never kind to me.
Neither do anyone else i met, i was always alone and depressed, nothing helped me ever until the day i decided to run away, from my family and my ex and all the people who claimed to be my friends.
I took my diary and my few things; most important my cigarettes, i didn't have too many things, i barley owned anything but my sad soul.
----
It was 3 am, i took the bus to a small town, a few hours from my old home, i sit smoking and looking out of the window, thinking about my past life, and then the bus stopped in a station and a guy came and sat next to me, he seemed really sad, looked me in the eyes and said "why did you run away?"
---
