In most stories, there has to be something that leaves you hanging and thirsty for more. Not this one. The Runaway is about a young girl that leaves her home to find her place in this world. She finds her place amoung a group of fearless wanted drug dealers. Right when she thought she was completely happy, she finds herself in a huge mess. Tell the cops what she knows or lie her way back to the streets.
"Haylee! Your going to be late school!" Mom mom hissed walking past my open bedroom door.
I mummbled something I dragged myself out of my warm bed. I walked to my bathroom and slammed the door shut. Twenty minutes later I walked into the kitchen. Dad sat at the table drinking his coffee and reading the paper.
"This city has do something about those dirty drug dealers." Dad said.
I rolled my eyes.
"Dad, they're human like we are. Just pretend they're not there and get on with life." I sighed.
"Haylee, their trash. Scum. Someone needs to do something before our city becomes trashed." Dad replied.
"No one knows how to mind their business. People are so stuck up and selfish." I sighed.
"Haylee, since when do you care about other people? You don't sound like yourself." Mom said.
"I'm not hungry. I think I'll walk to school." I hissed.
I grabbed my backpack and walked out the kitchen. I walked out the front door and walked down the sidewalk. My parents raised me to think that everyone that didn't have as much money as we do are trash. I walked past an homeless man. I stopped and turned around. As I walked back to him I pulled a few dollars out of my wallet.
"Here. You need it more than I do." I said.
He thanked me and I walked to school.
My high school is like most high schools. You have your clicks and your bullies and evil teachers and other "wonderful" things. My day consists of arguing with my least favorite teachers ( all of them), beating up the annoying flirting boys and pranking the cheerleaders and making them run away screaming. And as a result I end the school day sitting in the principles office trying to talk that woman into not telling my parents anything. At 3:10 I go home and argue about life with my parents and go to bed and start over again. I hear kids my age say that school is their ticket out of their life at home. For me, school is just another hell. The walk between home and school is my freedom. It's a short walk but it gets things off my mind. When I go home, it's a bowl of judgment soup every night. It's either "why can't you be like your cousin Ellie?" or "why can't you be what we raised you to be?". Do you know that saying "Life is like a box of chocolates...". Well, whoever came up with that, they lied.