Walking down the hall. Head down and earbuds in. She blends in. No one sees her. They never do and she’s happy for that. Others bump intoher, but she doesn’t do anything. When she makes it to class, she finds a seat and pulls out a notebook. She doodles on paper just so people won’t talk to her. Class starts and ends. No knowledge was retained. She moves on to her other classes all through the day. Never stopping to say hi to friends because she doesn’t have any to say hi to. The final bell rings and she gets on the bus to go home. Home is far worse. School is her haven. A drunk father who deosn’t care about anything lies at home probably passed out with a mother who takes her anger out on her daghter. She rides the bus with sweaty palms. Her stomach is doing flips that is gold medal worthy in gymnastics. The bus pulls up in front of her house and she steps off, while walking slowly towards the dreaded house. She walks in and there is blood splattered on the wall. Her mother, long dead, lies on the floor in a puddle of her own blood with a gun held limply in her hand. A quick glance into the living room shows her father passed out drunk on the couch with multiple beer bottles and an almost empty bottle of whisky on the floor next to him. Everything freezes around her. Time doesn’t exist and birds don’t chirp their happy, careless song. Everything comes back to her at once and she sprints to her room. She grabs the small bag already full of clothing and emergency cash and runs out of the house, leaving the back door wide open. She doesn’t know what happned or why because the only thoughts in her head are toward escaing her prison. She runs and never looks back. She runs until she reaches a bus station. Climbing on, she sits towards the back and faces the window. When the bus starts forward, her only thoughts are toward freedom.