The lonely routine that was my life became unbearable. So unbearable, in fact, that I decided I had no choice but to run away. I suppose I'm typing this to vent a little; share my story with the world (for those who choose to read it, that is).

I packed my things, and when my family wasn't looking, I escaped out our sliding glass back door and headed off into the night, holding my Twilight plushie close. I wore a jacket and a backpack filled with a few things I'd need if all went according to plan. I didn't have a plan B. That is to say, if plan A failed, I considered my only other option as running until the police found me. Not a good plan, but I didn't know what else to do. If you're concerned by this point, don't be. Plan A was successful.

Plan A was finding a friend's house and asking if I could stay for a while. I'd thought about frantically rambling about how I couldn't go back; how no one could make me and I would just continue to run if the answer was no. But then I decided that would get me a call to the men in white coats (or something similar) and they would just think I was crazy. So I retained my sanity as I trekked into the night, amongst sidewalks and traffic.

I got lost. If you're going to take a shortcut, make certain beforehand that it is actually a shortcut. Sometimes it's just better to backtrack. I eventually found it, though (to my great relief). When my friend's brother opened the door, he acted normally, as if he'd greeted anyone else. Even though it was like 10:00 at night.

Long story short, my friend's mom was kind enough to feed me and let me stay for a while. I'm back now.