(Julie's POV)
I needed an escape.
I shoved all the money I had into a wallet and threw it into my satchel purse, and I took my sticker-covered guitar case. My heart was pounding and adrenaline derived from anger charged me with energy. I left a note on my nightstand telling my parents that I'd be home in a day or two. I swung my purse over my shoulder and rushed out the door, gingerly shutting the door.
I was sick and tired of the life I was living. It was like the walls of the house were slowly closing in on me. Itching with the intense urge to get away, I hopped on my bike, pedaling hard and fast.
The lights of the uniform neighborhood lit the way out. I approached the exit and charged at full speed. I wiped my tears off on my denim jacket as I let go of my home's grip.
I parked at the bike rack, and walked quickly in the train station. The clock read 12:00. At the ticket booth, I whipped out my wallet and paid the vendor.
"Where to?" He grunted, through teeth clenched on a cigarette.
"Anywhere." He slid the ticket (to a town called Howell) through the opening. I snatched it and wandered over to where my train was. I stood waiting, being only one in line. Given, it was midnight. I breathed in the cool air. It was refreshing and crisp. The dirty, musty smell of the station wasn't the most pleasant, but it was different, and I needed different. I had to get away. I couldn't take my boring, ordinary, uneventful life.
The train screeched to a stop, and the doors whined open. I proceeded immediately, ready to see somewhere different than the spiritless hallways of my school and my characterless house. Hear something different than the sound of the tv that my dad stares at lifelessly until ten o'clock at night and the constant yelling from my mom to my sisters. I observed my new surroundings. The lights hummed with electricity. A couple rows ahead of me, there was a boy who looked around my age, staring dreamily out the window. He had on a dark green sweatshirt, jeans, and dirty white Nikes. Sitting down a row across from him, I sorted through my bag. He shook off his daze and began to sketch on a notepad. The train jerked forward, beginning my escape.
