Running

I think it was when I was six, when I first ran away. My grandpa had just died and we were staying at his old house for the burial. I was so scared of the emptiness of it. So scared, that I refused to leave the car. Mum started crying, but all that dad did was laugh. He came into the car an told me I'd had my fun and should come inside. When I refused, he carried me inside. Inside, I was confused for a few seconds, then I ran. Dad must have been confounded, he didn't even follow me. Still, I didn't get far. The neighbours saw a small child, running through the rain, no coat, crying and brought me back.
After that, I ran away more and more. When I was laughed at, when other children picked on me, or someone told me to do something I didn't want to And everytime my parents argued. But I always came back after an hour.
The first time I ran away for longer than that was when I was eight. We were moving, away from my school, my friends, everything. My parents had told me it was only for a short time, but someone had told me they were lying. At the airport, everything was totally chaotic, it always was, with my family. My brother desperately needed to go to the toilet, my father had forgotten something, and someone had to go to check-in. I was almost forgotten anyway, so when I asked if I could go to the shop, my parents said yes, just to get rid of me for a second. As soon as no-one could see me, I ran. I found some hiding place, and started crying. Almost an hour later, the speakers started calling my name, but I didn't come out, I couldn't come out. I was too scared. I saw my parents rush past me several times, shouting at each other. In the end my little brother found me. My parents had been too busy arguing.
At the new school, I didn't do anything. I read in class, didn't do my homework, didn't make new friends: The only thing I could be bothered to do was speak up to my teachers. Most of the time I just left the classroom afterwards, and when I didn't, The teachers sent me out. I spent more time in the playground than in the classroom.
At home it wasn't much better. My parents were arguing, whenever they thought I was sleeping. I  got into fights with my brother, which ended with him bleeding most of the time. My mum couldn't cope, and was crying half the time. My dad couldn't cope, and hit my brother all the time. He didn't dare hit me anymore, he was scared of my strength.
One night, in the summer holidays, I heard my parents arguing again. I don't remember what it was about, but it was so pitiful. I put on my clothes, didn't dare get my shoes from the hall, and jumped out of the window, making sure to make as much noise as possible. Then I ran. By the time I had come back, the sun had risen again. My parents hadn't even bothered looking for me. They banished me to my room for the rest of the day. And the next. And the next. Right up until school started again.
After that, I didn't bother coming home after school before the last bus came. My parents weren't at home anyway, so they didn't care. I found some friends and stayed at their place until the last bus came. And one day I lost track of the time. The last bus was gone when I arrived at the bus-station, so I decided to stay over, with no alternative. Back at home, my parents decided I must never visit friends again. So I ran. And I stayed away.