THE first time Catherine Wayne ran away from home, she was seven years old. “I’m running away from here.” She mumbles unto herself acting all brave like it was all just a simple game that she usually plays. “No one can stop me, and when I said no one then it is no one!” She claims, and repeating. She packed her favorite cookie, her stuffed rabbit she names Mr. Skittles, a clean red T-shirt, and a handful of granola bars, then set out into the world. Well, not the world, really, just the end of Seventh Street where the alley met the back of the park. “This should teach them some lesson.”She reasons out thinking that it is better than being in the house and the presence of her parents who are arguing about who will take her into custody.“No one dares to treat me like a thing.”As she pouts, determine to set her plan in action and to somehow make them realize their mistake and for once they would find the idea of listening to her. “Okay, Mr. Skittles it is only you and me from now
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