As life seemed to barge past me and a couple of years rolled by like the tears down my cheeks I saw that I was alone. There was no one in the world to care for me and no one I could trust. Well, I thought so.
In Year 9 I finally met the people I would later call my family. They were the only people I could rely on. It started with horribly of course, as it always does, but this time with the greatest results.
Victoria, Vicky for short, was my best friend. We collectively got together after being bullied and formed an alliance against the rest. They couldn't harm us when we had each other. We faced them head on and soon the bullying slowed down and they got bored from the counter insults we forced back at them. They were starting to humiliate themselves rather than us and losing power over the others quickly. So they stopped and focused on their selfish lives.
Vicky was an average height girl with dishwater blonde hair. She was bullied for her poor personal hygiene and her sisters. At least that's what the others supposedly saw. To me she was amazing, she had a curvy body to die for and she had the freedom that I always wanted. We were bonded somehow and at the time I didn't think anything could change it. How wrong I could be. You see, we both had difficult family lives and they were starting to close in on us. One day she cracked and I started tumbling down after her. We decided to run away and not look back, we decided there was nothing here for us.
Wednesday we bunked school and went and shoplifted the items we would need for our journey we were hoping to go on on Friday. We had just taken scarves, gloves and hats from the supermarket when loud booms filled the square. Remembrance day. The cannons had thudded through us and as we entered the bus to go back hope I could still feel them ricocheting through my body. That evening she called. Her parents had discovered she had bunked school and she decided to move the date to today. Moments later she was on my doorstep with a handbag and guitar case stuffed with clothes and other essentials. I dashed about my room, cramming the stuff into two backpacks and left my phone on the bed. We sprinted down the stairs and I had time to call to my step-mum saying I was going out. Then we were gone into the chilly night air, whipping at our faces and piercing our skin. We bought the tickets at the station with the £50 I had pulled out at the ATM and boarded the train. I took one last look around the dirty station before it pulled away and fear flooded me. The hours flew by and with an aching back we pulled up in the middle of nowhere at midnight where Vicky had arranged for us to stay around her friends house for the night.
That morning we woke up and formed a plan while her friend went to school. She decided we should live in a little wooded area in a nearby park until we could secure a place to squat and get jobs. Then when we had the money we would get our own place and form our own lives with new identities. It seemed so simple. We got to work making a shelter in the woods that day while frostbite gnawed at our fingers and toes. By the end of it we were fairly satisfied but just for measure we stayed at the girls house again that night.
It was our third night at her house when we were found. Pathetic it seems now. Vicky's crush had informed my parents had they had drove 3 hours to find us and soon we were bundled up in a police station with hot chocolate and evil glares. Vicky had to wait for her parents to pick her up because there were charges against her but I went home with my step-dad and father. It was a grim journey back.
To cut the whole event short they were not happy and my freedom was taken away. I wasn't properly allowed out until February where my antics began again.