Light was just beginning to creep into the sky as I hurried silently downstairs. I needed to get out of the house before my parents got up for work.
I’d packed a bag last night, stuffing it with all I could think that I’d need. A few changes of clothes, all the cash I’d been able to save in the last few weeks, and my bus ticket out of here.
In the hall I paused a moment, knowing it might be the last time I would stand here. I’d thought it would be more upsetting, leaving the home I’d grown up in, but at the moment the only feeling I had was one of anxiousness that I would be caught by my parents.
I’d decided to leave by the back door; it would be easier for me to get onto the high street unnoticed by any of our closest neighbours. They may wonder what I was doing scurrying off at first light, and would be bound to mention it to my parents later on. My plan, although not the best, was designed to get me as far away as possible in the shortest possible time.
Having closed the kitchen door behind me I walked down the path towards the bottom of the garden. The path curved round the house, and as such the gate was concealed from view by the old apple tree that grew on the back wall. Unlatching the gate, I took one last glance over my shoulder towards the house.
Now tears sprung up in my eyes, but I brushed them away before closing the gate as softly as I could. Once clear, I made my way left, downhill towards the high street and the bus station.