This is my plan, sneak out of the orphanage at night and find my dad. Easy. I stare at the clock longingly, waiting for it to read twelve. Right now it is 8:00 p.m.. Finally it is 12:00 a.m. I am bubbling with excitement. And I am also a little bit nervous because I have to leave the only home I have ever knwon. 
I slide out of bed as quietly as a cat stalking its prey, and walk to the window, the floorboards groan under my weight. As I am opening the window,  one of my friends, Cara, slowly opens her eyes. uh oh.
“What are you doing sneaking out,” she whispered.
“Uh, well, I am just super hot and need some fresh air,” I replied
“ Ok whatever,” She muttered half-asleep.
I let out a short breath of relief. That was close. The bedroom is on the second floor, so this might be a little tricky. I step onto the narrow ledge outside of the window.
I look into the window and see my eleven friends sound asleep on the beds with metal frames and white sheets. There is a pink floral wall paper and one closet that stores all of our clothing. That is all
I hug my body as close to the window as possible trying to avoid plummeting to my death.  There is no way down to the ground except for a black, metal pipe. Sketchy. This might end badly. Gripping the slippery pipe I slide down to about a foot above the ground and hop down to the mushy dirt. I rolled my ankle as I hit the ground “Ouch!” I scream as quietly as possible. I ignore the throbbing pain and focus on my main mission, finding my dad.
I stare up at the orphanage, memories come back of the scurrying rats,the beds of hard rock that leave you with back pains each morning, and the one loose floorboard where I store my secret stuff (including my only picture of my dad and mom). I remember the days of no food or water and my friends and I sneaking out to go to town. I might miss this place. “No,” I say to myself, “ There is no turning back now.”
It is time to do this. I had found a file yesterday while snooping around that had my dad’s address. It was about a mile away-- in the nicest apartment building in New York City. It is pitch black outside, and I can’t even see my hand if I put it right in front of my face. There was a light outside the orphanage that flickers on and off like the sign at the old walgreens at the coner of the street, creepy. I walk down the street trying to avoid people, which is pretty easy since there are not many people out at midnight in this part of the city. The only sound was the occasional car zipping by.
I continue walking until I reach my dad’s apartment, Here I am. “I can do this,” I mutter under my breath. I step up to his door, and knock. I wait a minute. No answer. I knock again louder this time. Ten seconds later, the door creaks, and I see a man that looks just like my father in the picture that I have.
.