• It was about midday when I finally stopped in a Spanish deli to rest. My backpack felt about 10 pounds heavier than it did when I left. As the waitress poured me a cup of coffee, I looked back at my last night at home…

    My wet shoes sloshed through the house as I got the last of my things together. The headache I had got worse when my mom walked in. She took in my appearance: my bruised arms and my fat lip and my black eye as I grabbed some granola bars from the kitchen.
    "What happened to you?" she asked, not having taken one step inside the house.
    "Sean and I got into another fight," I whispered.
    "A fist fight?" she questioned. "How many times have I told you to break up with him?"
    "A million, and the one time I took your advice, now he's looking for me." I grabbed my wallet off the dining room table and started for the door.
    "Looking for you?" she said, blocking my only exit.
    "Yes, as in when he finds me, he's going to kill me." I said sternly.
    "You're not going anywhere."
    "Yes I am. Mom, I'm not going to let him hurt you or Sophie. It's best this way."
    Mom looked at me dumbfounded. She couldn't stop me now knowing this.
    "Take care of yourself," she said hugging me, "please."

    "I will." I walked out of the house in the pouring rain.

    I had gotten through two cups of coffee trying to warm myself up. It's been three days since I left home; three days since I slept in a warm bed instead of on the cold sidewalk, three days since I've had some of Mom's homecooking. But I couldn't go back now. No, that would put them in danger. If Sean found me…I shuddered at the thought.

    I gave the waitress the money and walked out. I had walked two city blocks when I froze. Sean was looking at me dead in the eye.

    "Leona." He said, a gleam in his eye.

    I ran as fast as my legs could take me.