Never forgotten.

The Runaway

                  My name is Alex, and I was born in a very small and poor country from Europe, Moldova.  My mother gave birth to me at home, since my family lived in a very small town, with little civilization. I was the second child, my sister was six years older than me. Since I remember, we were very poor and bearly had enough money for food. My older sister, Anna, was home very little because she was spending all of her time at her friend's house so I used to be lonely as mom and dad were at work all day. Though when they were home they always mistreated me, I guess this is why my sister was not spending time with us. They used to physically and mentally abuse me because of little things, like not washing the dishes at the right time, not giving food to our gooses. Our house was pretty small, we all had just one bedroom, where we all slept. We also had a little basement where my mother was keeping her jewelry, yeah, her job was selling handmade jewelry. My dad never had a stable money income, since he was an ordinary seller.

                   I lived like that for thirteen years, because from all the bad things that were happening, at least I wasn't starving and my health was okay. But on March 27, evening, my father came home drunk, and started beating me because he thought that I took money from his wallet while he was at the bar. He wasn't aware of what he was doing, so he ended up leaving terrible bruises on my body. That night, I decided that that's enough, and I had to run away. When everyone was sleeping, I took my school backpack and filled it with food, and a warm jacket. I sneaked out of the house threw the window, the noise I made, was pretty loud but thankfully no one woke up. Once outside, I ran in a random direction until I was literally falling asleep on my feet. Then I found a corner, near a grocery store that wasn't windy, and no one could see me there. I laid my jacket on the ground and fell asleep on it.