I waited for the sound of my parents TV to turn off. I knew that exactly thirty minutes, they would both be asleep. I packed my clothes, toothbrush, toothpaste, car keys, books, paper and pencils, and $437.51.

The clock on the oven read 12:30. I neatly placed my goodbye letter on the island and I slowly elevated myself out of my seat, unlocked the front door, and dragged my luggage behind me. I rushed to my car, flung my bags into the bed of the truck, and backed out of the driveway. This is it. I was never coming back.

I soon found myself on the deserted highway going 60. I didn’t need to rush out of there; I had all the time in the world. I watched as the shadows danced across my dashboard and I started to feel a weight lift from my shoulders. I turned on the radio on low volume, the light music keeping me company in my lonesome journey. I looked into the rearview mirror and watched as my childhood slowly slipped from my sight. I gripped the steering wheel tighter. I knew I was ready for this.

Every now and then I would notice another car. I wondered if they were coming home from a long vacation, or a rough day at work. I started making up stories to pass the time. The lady in the blue Honda Civic worked late night shifts at Progressive and she was so stressed that her gray hair was falling out. She had two kids in college and she was divorced. She had this nasty look plastered on her face making me believe that she was a bitter old woman.

The man in the Range Rover was singing to his wife in the next seat. Probably something like Sweet Caroline or Brown Eyed Girl. They were in their mid thirties, I presumed. They had no children. Wanted to keep all their money to themselves. They had lots of it.

I went on and on like this, passing the time with my fellow travelers. I wouldn’t let any of my tears fall. Not right now. Not when I was still trying to break the grasp of Ohio’s borders. Once I passed into Pennsylvania, then I would cry. I pushed the gas a little harder.

I exited the highway so I wouldn’t have to pay at the Toll. My headlights flashed at the “Welcome to Pennsylvania” sign. Then realized that I was all cried out. That I’ve been so alone and broken these past years that nothing would escape. It all became clear. I wasn’t sad anymore. I was just plain angry for the way they treated me. Like I had some sort of disorder that they wanted no part in curing.

The clock on my dashboard read 1:40, so I pulled up to a red light and pulled out my phone and opened maps. It looked like I was around Erie, PA. Right on schedule. I turned back onto the freeway. I was in need of some coffee.

About a couple miles later, I pulled into the first rest stop I’ve seen in awhile. When I opened the door, the cool air of February hit my cheeks. I blew on the tips of my fingers to try and heat them as I made my way over to Dunkin Donuts. “Hello,” the boy behind the counter yawned. “What can I get for you?”

I scanned the menu. “A medium caramel ice coffee with cream and sugar and extra caramel.” He nodded and went to work.

“Ice coffee? In February?” He asked.

“It’s my favorite,” I said.

He smiled then asked, “So what’s a young girl like you doing here at two AM?”

“Like you’ve never seen anyone my age in here at this time of night.”

“Nope. Never have. And I’ve been working here for a couple years now.”

I’m just a girl ordering coffee.”

“At two in the morning?”

“At two in the morning,” I repeated. He handed me my drink and I slid $1.06.

On the road again, I smiled to myself. I’ve been waiting for the moment  where I built up the courage to run away and start a life of my own, not the one where my parents thought what was best for me. They think they’ve got me all figured out, but their wrong.

Slowly but surely I was closing in on New York City. My eyes caught the red outline of a 6 on the dashboard. Six o’clock on the dot. I knew my parents would be reading the letter. I also knew that they would call any minute. After that, I would throw the phone away.

A few more minutes passed when I heard the first ring. My heart stopped. It wasn’t the ring I was expecting. It was a loud blaring sound that would only be used for the Find My iPhone app. I quickly took it and threw it out the window. I sped up.

Around 7:30 I excited the freeway and started going on back roads, looking for a cheap restaurant. I found a nice little diner called Tracie’s. I parked and rushed inside. I could barely keep my eyes open. I haven’t really missed this much sleep before. But I was also hungry. I needed pancakes.

I sat at the bar. “What’ll it be?” She asked. I could already sense the New Yorker accent.

“Two blueberry pancakes, please.” She wrote it down and stationed herself at the other side of the bar. I looked up at the TV and on national television, I saw my face. I literally felt my heart sink to my stomach. I was about to throw up. This could ruin everything!

“Breaking news- seventeen year old, Madeline Jackson is missing. She is thought to be somewhere in New York State. She is driving a red Ford pickup truck with a license plate number of JAY 5639. If you see anyone matching the description, please call local police.” I looked around the diner frantically. It was practically empty, and everyone in there wasn’t paying attention to the news. The waitress was back in the kitchen. I started to breathe.

The lady brought out my pancakes a couple minutes later and I shoveled them. I contemplated whether to Dine and Dash, when 2 cops walked in. (They seemed like nice men, laughing along with each other, but I knew getting out of here was slim.) I pulled my hood over my head, left a couple dollars on the counter, and turned to walk away. I could feel the eyes of the men watching me as I left. As I made it halfway through the parking lot, I turned back slightly only to see the cops were back to laughing and drinking coffee. I ran to my truck and stepped on the gas.

I drove down the road a little further until I came across an abandoned building near a junk yard. I parked my truck behind it, walked to the bed of my truck, undid the sleeping bag and pillows, and got comfortable. I had a lot of sleep to catch up on.

I woke, in the pitch black. I sat up and looked around. No one was there. I didn’t intend to sleep as long as I did, but that only helped matters. I got back into the driver’s seat and drove back towards the junk yard. I turned off my headlights and parked outside the fence. I grabbed one of the screw drivers in my glove compartment and got out. I zipped up my hoddie, tightened my converse, and started towards the fence. I held the screwdriver between my teeth and started climbing the tall barricade. I got caught on the barbed wire on the top and started bleeding. “S***,” I muttered as I jumped down onto the ground.

Soon enough, I found an old, beat up car with a license plate from New York. I started using the screw driver to unhook it from the car when I felt a spot light shine on me. I knelt there, frozen. Beads of sweat formed on my forehead, my hands started shaking and everything was moving in slow motion. My vision started to blur. I could see a silhouette of one of the cops moving towards the fence. I couldn’t hear what they were saying over the pounding of my heart against my chest. I watched him reaching for the gate to the fence I just climbed over. The second I heard the lock unhook, everything snapped back together. I dropped the plate and the screw driver and ran for it. They were both following me on either side of the fence. I could hear them calling for back up. I pushed harder. When I reached the end of the junk yard, I started climbing again. I made it to the top and jumped down. With all the adrenaline running through me, I couldn’t feel the new wounds that formed from the barbed wire.

I ran past the truck and sprinted towards the woods across the street. I figured I could lose them in a tree or something. The only thing lighting my path was the moons reflection of the sun. I felt like I could run a marathon. The whole idea of being chased was funny to me. I started laughing out loud. Without realizing it, I started to slow down. After I broke through the wooded barrier, I turned around and started running backwards, taunting the men who couldn’t match my incredible speed. “Why are you even trying? There’s no point! You can’t catch-“I face planted into the ground. I pushed myself up with shaking arms as I looked behind me and saw that I tripped over a root. I then noticed flashlights. I tried to stand up, but my jeans were caught on the bark. They were inching closer and closer and my breath hitched in my throat. Just as I unhinged my jeans, I felt muscular arms wrap around my small ones. I started to throw my body, trying to break free, but there was no point. I had been caught, and I was going home.