She's running.

She's running, and she doesn't know why.

She wishes so, so bad that it didn't have to be like this, she'd give anything for a second chance.

Everyone always tells her running never helps, that running away from things just causes more problems.

"Never run away from your problems," they say. "Running away never solves anything."

They just don't get it, she has to run away.

Running away is all she knows, all she's used to.

No one's ever cared about her before, why should they start now? No one even knows she exists, except for the bullies who beat her up, and that's only four people. That's only on Friday from three to five.

That is, until the new kid arrives.

He's dark. He's mysterious. He's alone.

'Perhaps,' she thinks, 'we could be alone, together.'

So, the next day, Friday, as she walks out of school, lost in thought, she's thinking about him.

As she's being hit and kicked, she's thinking about him.

As they push her to the ground, she's thinking about him.

And as he comes to her rescue, punching the four guys in the faces, she's thinking about him.

She looks up at him as the four boys run away, yelling about how they'll be back.

'Ask him,' she thinks, staring up at him.

She runs the idea by him as she stands, brushing the dirt off her pants.

He stares at her, wide-eyed, loving the idea of having a companion, but being scared of the idea of losing her.

He slowly pushes his bangs out of his eyes before walking away from her, leaving her sad and feeling lonelier that ever before, because she had one shot at a true friend, and she blew it.

She walks home that night, tears falling freely.

One. By. One.

She tries to sleep that night, but the tears keep coming, and they don't stop.

She's finally almost asleep, when she hears something hit her window.

A few seconds later, she hears it again.

The noise continues until she finally gets up and opens the window, only to find the boy from earlier.

He flashes his trademark sideways grin before nodding, indicating that he wants to be her friend.

She smiles back at him, before throwing some things in a bag and climbing out of her window, landing gracefully on the ground.

She smiles before walking down the road, him following.

They share each other's secrets, learning more about each other than they ever thought was possible, because, for the first time since either of them could remember, they had someone to confide in; someone who cared, someone they cared about.

That night, they skipped town, ran away, as far as they could, never looking back, never regretting the decision, never feeling like the person they were with would bail on them, because they had each other, and that was all they really needed.

Too bad it took sixteen years to figure it out.

Sixteen years of beating, harassment, and self-harm.

Sixteen long years.

But, now that they look back on it, none of those years really mattered; nothing mattered to either of them at all until that fateful day when he saved her from those bullies.

That day will forever be known to them as the Beginning of a New Start, and they were bound and determined to make their second chance count.

After all, you only get a second chance once, one chance to forget the past and do it all over, change everything you can, forget everything you can.

Doesn't everyone deserve a second chance?