I grabbed my hardened backpack from the corner of my lumpy bed. I packed every single one of my personal belongings, ranging from my computer (Which was actually thoughtful of my parents to give me), some books, my drawing tablet, some red pencils, and my sketchbook. Those were the only things I needed/wanted.

I also brought along a few snacks, so I wouldn't die outside in the real world by starvation. If that happened, then all of what I'm about to do is for nothing. I put on my torn up jacket and my dusty glasses. The fact that at such a young age I wanted to leave this place is a risk, I still got ready. I wasn't afraid of anything. Screw the dangers of the outside world.

As I was about to open my window exiting out of my bedroom or horror, I realized that I forgot some bandages. I glanced at my arm, and my puny old bandage fell off. The bandage covered the cut when my parents jagged me lightly with a knife. After the fact of knowing this only happened yesterday, I knew I needed more bandages.

As I went to grab some from the bathroom, I heard my parents fighting in rage again. I heard screams of outrage from the brawl.

They hated each other, and the only thing they really did together happily was hating me. I took a small peak into the room. I small splat of red flew across the hall and landed on the wall. I stared at the stain, hesitating to move. After some time I finally grabbed some bandages in a snap, and sprinted into my room. I closed the door quietly and sighed heavily. My heart heated to my brain's throbs of regret. I peered towards the window and my eyes focused on the latch I broke last night. It still lay on the windowsill.

-0-0-0-

I stared off behind me as I climbed out the window. My eyes were frozen on the spot, spying for anything suspicious that could give away my plans. As I exited the torture room, I closed the window rapidly. I jumped and ran into the morning's light. My heart raced as I passed several innocent people, who were shocked to see an 8 year old running on the sidewalks like a madman. Houses made of brick looked like a red blur. The old neighborhood didn't have any time to greet me. Fear grew in my belly, I wondered if someone would call the cops, but I never saw anyone take out their drugs. I'm taking about the phone, my parents said that they were the worst drugs ever made, even poorer than the real bad drugs. I never knew why they said that, they didn't take a bite, or even lick it. I kept running toward somewhere, but nowhere also. I just wanted to get to point B from point A. Thoughts of wonder and regret circled in my head as I passed the crumbly stores. I realized that I was heading towards the back of the village, the place that always had that police tape everywhere. My parents threatened me that they would leave me there when I have gone too far. I swear I've gone too far many times, but I guess leaving your child shivering on a cold night wouldn't be polite. As I jumped over the fence leading into the broken down place of humanity, I finally saw where I could go, a dark alley way, and without a dumpster. The bugs darted across the air, searching for any foul-smelling scent. Broken windows and missing bricks towered me as I walked in wearily into the new hideout. So it has to come to this... I thought.

-0-0-0-

My head lay on my pillow as I took in the display of disgust. Paint peeled off walls, broken bricks and stained wood played everywhere on the concrete floor of the dark alley way. My eyes grew cloudy as he grew tired with every rat squeak. My eyes began to shut slowly, as I resisted the choice of resting my brain.

At last, the eyes won, and I was drawn to a deep sleep. The squeaks of the rats and the humming of the grasshoppers calmed me...

-0-0-0-(Third person change)

Everything felt dark as he awoke. His eyes blurred then blurred again like an alarm's ringing pattern. As his eyes started to adjust to his surroundings he noticed a small table with a small alarm clock. Wait, he thought in panic. He started to look around. No...no way! He was back in his old bedroom. the white walls haunted him as he stared at his room in horror. How did they find me...and why? Didn't they hate me? He got up. His head started to throb harshly, like someone just whacked a bat too his head.

He put his hand on his head and felt something hot, and sticky. His eyes widened, fear shining in his eyes. 

Blood.

If felt all too real. He wanted to believe this was a dream, but now it felt like reality. Pure. Deadly. Reality. He heard a jingle sound and he looked over to the door way, its dented and useless husk mocking him.

A flash of silver caught his eye. The door-handle, he thought. He started to back up towards the back of the bed. His vision started to grow white. The dream was ending. He sighed relief, knowing he didn't have to put up with his parents. As the dream ended the door started to open.   He felt a tear go down his eye as he prepared for the pain. He covered himself up, waiting, but nothing happened. He looked up.

His eyes flew awake. He was puzzled about the dream's strange ending. He expected to see his parents waiting to kill him for running away, but it wasn't. He was trying to make out what it was, but the dream suddenly ended. He looked over and saw his hand dipped in honey.

Great.