Runaway

It was stupid.
It was dangerous.
It was exhilarating.

.~.

I didn't really think that running away would solve anything. However, it would prevent me from any further advances into insanity, so I took my chances on the streets.

I hated him, the way the smell of alcohol would seep into all my clothes, the way he smashed bottles all over the living room, causing me to bleed heavily when I stepped on them in the mornings, the way I couldn't eat any meals because he spent all the money on hard liquor.

So, I did what any other sane 17-year old would do in my situation:

I ran away.