She ran; her long strawberry hair flying behind her. She didn't know her final destination. She just knew she needed out, needed an escape, and her so called friends and foster family could not give her either. She was alone, in every sense of the word. She had no allies, and she did not know who her enemies were. Her feet pounded the pavement in the semi-upper class neighborhood. She had never belonged with the Jones family. She was too "urban," too… "out there" for the classy community. She ran, not necessarily away, but more in search of. In search of acceptance. Suddenly, she stopped, realization hitting her like a strike of lightning in a storm.
New York City; the one place where everyone is accepted, because everyone is an outcast. The place for artists and business people, for hopefuls and cynics. That, is a place she could call home. A place she would call home. She began running again.