My red hair whipped my face as I ran and ran and ran. That's all I could think about, running. I know the route I had to take to get to the airport, I've had every step memorized since I was twelve. My backpack bounced against my aching back as I ran through the woods next to the road, close enough to hear the cars, not close enough to be seen. I didn't want him to find me so easily on the road. I didn't want him to find me at all. It is 17 miles to the airport from the back door of my house, well my fathers house, he made it clear I was unwelcome.

It all started when my step-mother died. I was the child of an affair, I never knew my mom, and my dad got married when I was three. She didn't like me, but was good at keeping my father distracted. She died when I was eight. Later that year my dad started drinking, a lot. Then the yelling started, then the hitting, then the kicking, and when I was twelve, the whipping started. I've always done my best to stay out of the house, which is why I play so many sports. I run track, cross country, soccer, swimming, kick boxing, boxing, I play music, I read in libraries, I go on hikes and climb trees. Anything to stay away from him and out of the house. I'm 15 now, and today, I snapped. I came home from practice and he was already drunk. He yelled at me for the usual stuff, how I was the reason my step mom died, how I'm a bitch and a whore and the worst daughter ever. Then he tied me to the to the table legs with my arms spread eagle and my back facing him. Then he whipped me like a dog. Tears welled up in my hazel/green eyes, but I refused to give him the satisfaction of letting him see me cry. So I grit my teeth and waited for the whip to stop digging into my already ruined and scarred back. After he was done, I went to my room, grabbed my back that I've had packed since I was twelve. It has $800 from babysitting, extra clothes, my ID card, a sleeping bag, and some granola bars and water bottles. I threw my bag out the window and climbed the tree down and took off running, heading to the airport.

I pause for a breath, looking at the road I can see I'm five miles away from the airport and it's 5:30pm, hopefully I can get a flight to Forks tonight, and hopefully my uncle and cousin will take me in without asking questions. Yeah, solid game plan right here, but there is no way in hell that I can stay with that maniac anymore. I start back up into a jog, thankful for all my years of running training.

Finally I reach the airport, but I look like a homeless person, which I guess I technically am, I realize with a grimace. So I enter the bathroom to change into the spare clothes I brought and wash the dirt and twigs off my face and hair. As I walk into the stall, I pull my clothes from my backpack. I'm changing into my well-worn blue jeans, a forest green tank top, and my grey sweatshirt because I assume Forks will be rainy and cold, especially since it's already October. Feeling much better in my new clothes, but careful not to strain my bleeding back (which I put bandages on in the stall) I walk out to braid my long read hair. I exit the bathroom feeling much more confident and stride over to the check-in counter and say "Hi, my name's Katie, are there any flights heading out to Forks, Washington tonight?" The old lady at the counter gave me a once over, assessing my appearance and age. She then states "Aren't you a little young to be flying by yourself?" I wanted to shoot back "Aren't you a little old to be alive?" But I held my tongue, plastered a sheepish smile on my face and calmly said "yes ma'am, but I'm flying to meet my uncle and cousins, this trip is a birthday gift to me from my dad". She seems convinced by the lie and says "there is one flight going to Forks it boards at 7:00pm" I look at my phone screen, it reads 6:25, I sigh in relief, this is perfect. "That's awesome!" I say with real enthusiasm in my voice "how much?". She says "$450 for one way, additional if you are checking a bag". I slide my money across the counter and tell her that I am not, in fact checking a bag. She asks for my ID, verifies that I'm not a crazy person and sends me on my way. Feeling happier than I've been in months, I head toward security drinking my water and eating a granola bar. I make it through security and head to my gate right as they start boarding, I get on the plane and hold my breathe until takeoff. Because, as soon as I'm off the ground, I'm away from that bastard forever and I can start my new life.