31. Welcome Home
When I was little, around 7 or so, I got into an argument with my mom. I felt so angry, over something stupid, I’m sure. I was so upset, I decided the only thing to fix my woes was to run away. I emptied my barbie doll suitcase (it was the only one I owned), and I packed my necessities. A toy or two, or three, and a gatorade with some goldfish. In my eyes, that was all I needed. I told my mom I was leaving, and that I never wanted to see her again. I made it outside, … Continue reading 31. Welcome Home