I was running.
Again.
I figured there was no need to lie to myself on what I was actually doing., I was the only person standing in my brothers dark garage, realistically, I also knew this wasn't the first time I've run when I felt like shit hit the fan. I looked around one last time and tried to commit the smell and look to my memory, I knew it would be a while before I was back to collect my shit from Emmett and Roses' place, whether it was for the dorms and Northwestern or an apartment in some new city was still undetermined, I hadn't thought passed the acute need to leave, to clear my head in a new town as far away as I could possibly get in a car.
I sighed and walked up to my dads prized possession, the '65 Mustang, she was our pet project and even though now she was technically mine, I will always think of her as his. I touched the glossy black hood reverently silently saying goodbye and slung my duffle over my shoulder and walked into the driveway to my white Mini Cooper. I knew it would be harder for anyone to find me before I wanted them to if I was driving that, as opposed to the Mustang, it was to memorable.
I threw my duffle in the passenger seat and slid into the driver seat, the engine didn't have the same purr and rumble that the Mustang had, what I had grown accustomed to in the last few months. I backed out of my brothers house and said another silent goodbye, it was still dark outside the street lights leaving a yellow glow as I flew towards I-55 south.
It was only when I was safely on the interstate that I let my mind wander towards the reasons that led me towards accepting my admissions to Northwestern and all the new problems that came with it.