I was tired. Tired of everything I knew, tired of my friends, my family, the things I was interested in at one point, I was so tired of being the same old person, always going to parties with my friends, dating a different guy almost every month. I was tired of my once fun life. Hell, even my music wasn’t that great. Lately all of the things I once enjoyed just felt like heavy weights pulling me towards the bottom of the ocean. I was drowning myself with my own life. That’s why I decided tonight I’d change. I would save myself from my own fate, and with that thought I put on my shoes and swung my bag over my shoulder. I tiptoed down the steps, and past the dining room. I’d snuck out of this house so many times I knew exactly which floorboard creaked and which didn’t, so I had no trouble getting into the main room without a problem. I wondered what my family would think when they went to wake me up in the morning only to find my bed empty. My mom would probably be horrified, she’d blame herself and think she did something wrong- even though she didn’t. She was the best mom ever, and had never been unfair to me in my seventeen years living with her. My father? Well I’m his little girl, he was going to be devastated. Then there was my little brother, who was nine. He’d probably just assume I’d be in trouble, not that I wouldn’t come back. I was at the door now, my chance of freedom, looking back one last time, I took in all that was around me, the tv that had been replaced twice thanks to Andy throwing a baseball and kicking a soccer ball in the house, the old couch that our uncle had given us. It was so old that it sunk downwards, like skin does as you age. The brown wood floors that were covered in rugs in some spots- my favourite one being the one in front of the couch. I looked down at the ragged thing, we’d had it since my little brother was born, and it was beyond ruined. The closed windows that were covered with thick curtains and all the family pictures on the wall behind the tv. This was my home, and I was sick of it.
I opened the door quickly, then locked it behind me, I had my key on my necklace like always- it was more a fashion thing for me, I had loved the custom pink key since my father got it for me when I turned thirteen and was old enough to walk home from school on my own. I had decided to bring it with me as a keepsake, just something to remember my family by. I cut through my neighbor’s yard, and onto the little dirt trail that circled the neighborhood and then went straight towards the closest bus station. I had walked this little trail so many times before I could close my eyes and still know where I’m going. Only this time I paid more attention to the bare trees, and brown grass on either side of the trail, this was my last time seeing this too. This time it was different. It was scary and exciting all at once, it wasn’t like those nights when I snuck out to go to some party or boy’s house, I always knew I’d have a place to sleep, and a place to go but when you’re running away there is no home, not right away anyway. I didn’t even know where I was going, maybe the excitement of running away had just gotten the best of me.
I stopped and thought about turning back, fear clouding my mind but only for a few minutes. As I stood in the middle of the dirt trail, frozen, the wind tousled my blonde locks, blowing them in my face and the cold breeze helped clear my head. There was a reason I was doing this, and I wasn’t about to give up now. If I stayed in this little town, with all these eyes on me for much longer I’d go nuts. Not wanting to change my mind again and go back home I began to run, my short legs only let me go so fast though, and my chest was pounding before I even got out of the neighborhood. Maybe I shouldn’t have started smoking last year, I probably wouldn’t be this uncomfortable while running. The bus station was getting closer and closer, and by now I could almost feel the freedom I was about to have. I felt the ticket in the back pocket of my jeans, the thick paper giving me a small papercut and by now I was panting and my lungs burned as well as my legs. I shouldn’t have packed so much clothes, my bag felt like it weighed ton, however it was fall and I knew by winter I’d be layering up with how skinny I was.

By now I was at the bus station, I was tired from the ten minutes of running, and I slumped against the cold wooden bench to wait for my way to freedom. Now it was cold out, and the wind had picked up, however inside the bus stop I couldn’t feel it that much. The next bus would be at 5:30 which gave me just enough time to get into the next city. It was 5:26 now. Soon I would no longer be Jeanne Flore.