The Girl Who Lived

On the Run

 After a couple of years, I started to believe him. I thought that after a while, my parents would come back and help me leave this awful place, but they never came. I stayed there until I ran away. I was 13 when I ran, I only ran because he wanted me to call him my boyfriend, at first I thought it was nothing but as I got older I understood why he wanted me, a child to call him a 40-year-old man my boyfriend. He wanted my body. I was still young but he said that as long as I gave him consent it would be okay, I didn’t understand what he meant by consent. I was young and naïve. I didn’t want to do anything, but he wouldn’t take no for an answer. 

I knew that there was only one thing to do. I started to save a bit of money, and I stole what I could. I didn’t know how much money I needed, I knew that no one would hire a 13-year-old, so I took what I could and made plans. I knew a couple of people from school who ran away from home, but they always came back, I couldn’t come back. The next day in school I went up to a friend or at least someone that I thought was a friend. I asked him to help me. his name was Sam, I thought I could trust him. When I told him my plan to run away, he said that he couldn’t help me, and then he asked me if I could wait another five years, I will be 18 then and it would be legal. I couldn’t wait, I needed to leave now. I saved up money and made a plan. 

The plan was simple, the plan was to start saving money now and when possible make my escape, and the hardest part of the plan was to not get caught. I didn’t have anyone to help me, so I didn’t have to tell anyone where I was going. 

On the night after I turned 13, I ran, I had to get out I was still technically in foster care but I didn’t care. No one ever cared about me. No one would take my word over his, after all, I am a child, and I didn’t do well in school. I was always getting into trouble. No one wanted me, a troubled child. I was so alone. I didn’t know what to do, every time I heard sirens I would walk in the opposite direction. I knew that no one was looking for me, after all, I was just a kid who didn’t mean anything to anyone. 

I stole money from my foster dad, if I ever go back there he will punish me forever. I started going to events and I would beg people for money. It was degrading, but I would do anything to not have to go back to that house. After people realized what I was doing, I was banned from the events. 

I ran out of money after being on the streets for a couple of months and I had nowhere to go. I started to steal, I wasn’t proud of it, but I had to do what I had to do. After I stole some food from a*****e, I was caught. I fought the cops, I didn’t want to go back. I just wanted to be free, but I couldn’t, it was like I was locked behind bars. All I did was take some food, and they locked me up. 

I was scared they locked me up, for doing something inadequate like taking a bit of food so I wouldn't starve. Could you blame me? Wouldn’t you do everything you can, so you would have to go back into an awful? When I was caught they put me into handcuffs, I was 13 at the time, I didn’t understand how they could do this to a starving kid. They took me “downtown” as the cop called it, it was the police station, I didn’t know why they just said to the station. 

I was still cuffed when my case worker Anne came in. She was using her. I'm smiling because I have to but deep down I’m really disappointed, look. I get that look a lot, especially when she thinks I’m lying. 

I hate her so much she believes everything is my fault. When she gets me released, we go to the car, she starts to lecture me; 

“Why do you do this? Why can’t you just stay put, you have 5 more years until you aren’t my problem? I can’t bring you back there, he doesn’t want you anymore, look what you did.  I now have to find a new place for you to go to, for the time being, I now have a ton more paperwork to do. You just had to get arrested didn’t you?” 

I said nothing. I just looked straight ahead waiting for her to continue, not knowing she wasn’t being rhetorical. She just waited for me to answer, but I didn’t. Why should I give her the satisfaction of knowing what was going through my head right now? When she figured out that I wasn’t going to respond she started to talk again; 

“So you have nothing to say? Well, that is just great. You're not even going to tell me why you thought running away was a good idea?” I kept my head down. “ So, you think silence is the answer then…” another long pause of silence, “ Fine then don’t speak, I just wanted to know why you thought running from your problems was the answer, all you had to do was tell me why you wanted to leave. Did you ever think of that? Did you ever think ‘hey my caseworker would help me out of a bad situation?’ No, you just did that action, what is even worse is that I can’t be your caseworker any more. They think I'm unfit for this job.” I looked down to my lap and still didn’t say anything. I kept opening my mouth, but I thought better of it. I didn’t know what to say, so I was quiet for the rest of the ride.