November

We lasted one month that time- all filled with parties and the like. That summer (2010) my mom and I went at it hard. It got to the point of me moving in with my dad for my junior year. Sam and I dated again, starting in August even though my dad hated it. I started at a new high school and everything was different. It was good for awhile; I was trusted and loved and liked most of my classes. One of my best friends still went to school with me and Sam came to see me every now and then.

Then I got in trouble. And I retaliated. My grades dropped, I skipped classes, I stopped coming home right after school. I found my dads girlfriend's liquor stash and poured glasses of Popov vodka at least three times a day. One night talking to Sam, an idea came to me suddenly. I was "sick of the bullshit" and "frustrated" and "nobody really cared about me" so I packed up and left. It was too easy. I stayed home from school and waited for my dad and his girlfriend to leave for work. First thing I did was call Sam.

"Come get me. Now." I didn't care about who I was hurting or the fact that I was planning on leaving the only people I'd known for sixteen years. It was all about me.

All my shit was in a suitcase and a backpack. My life reduced to what I thought was important. The note was written and stuck on my desk underneath my house key. My first stop after climbing into a truck was the gas station where I withdrew over 500 dollars.

We were just getting started.