Ever since the day I was born, all I wanted to do was run. I was never running from anything, or anyone, well not yet. I was just running. It was to hard to deal with my problems. Since I was young, it seemed I had things to deal with that other 'normal' kids didn't. None of the other kids in school had a drunken, abusive, step-father. None of them had a white trash mother who worked seven jobs just to put food on the table. None of them knew what I was going through, and quite honestly I didn't want them to. From my toddler days, all the way up to my high school years, I had one friend. One person I could truly trust. One person who I knew would never hurt me. This knight in shining armor, was Tom.

High school, the best four years of your life; not! I'll start my story on September ninth, nineteen ninety one. It was the first day of my freshman year. I started my high school experience out in all the worst ways. The worst hair, the worst clothes, the worst attitude. I had no friends, aside from Tom for most of my schooling experience. I walked down a wide, dirt and gravel road where I awaited the bus. Tom wasn't on my bus. He lived in an upper middle class 'development'. I lived in a poor lower class 'neighborhood'. It was unusual for someone like him to even consider being friends with someone like me. But it didn't bother Tom. He never saw me as the poor girl with a hard family life. He saw me as the sister he never had. I don't think I'll ever trust anyone like I trusted him.

I remember my first day clearly. I got on the bus, walked through the isle, felt the eyes leering at me. They were judging me...they were in no position too, but they were teenagers, so they did. I walked to the back and strutted out in a three seater. The cold plastic seats numbed my skin. Finally, we arrived. I looked at the building. It was new, unfamiliar. I had seen it before, but never actually pictured myself going to school there.

The doors of the bus swung open. I saw Tom standing waiting for me. For the first time all day, I smiled. I tried not to act to eager to get to him, but I'm pretty sure it was obvious. I nearly sprinted over to him. "I am sooo gland to see you!"

"Hey Katie." Tom greeted me. He was the only one who called me Katie. I never told him, but I always felt special because of it.

"Hey." I smiled as I responded. We made out way into our home rooms together. Luckily for us, we had homeroom together. I sat next to him. Our teacher walked in and welcomed us to high school, prior to handing out tons of papers. I sighed as I placed each one neatly in my bag.

"You okay?" Tom leaned over and asked. He knew me better then anyone. He had a unique way of reading me like an open book. It was more like a diary with a lock. Tom was the only one who had a key. The key was kept safe, close to his heart.

"..Yeah...It's just my moms working late tonight and I highly doubt I can get Wayne to willingly sign it." I sighed again.

"Maybe you can explain to the teacher..." It was a nice thought on Tom's part, but I knew it wouldn't work.

"...No it's okay...I'll see if I can catch her in the morning." I pushed a small smile through my lips. Tom didn't see things quite the same way I did. I can't say I honestly would expect him to. Things were different. We were different. He came from a nice house, with a nice loving family, who cared more about him then anyone or anything. I had none of that. I wasn't really expected to do much. As long as I could make it through high school, I would be a success in the eyes of my mother and another source of drinking money in the eyes of Wayne.

After homeroom, we separated form each other. Holding a map and wondering hopelessly, I made my way to every class, picking up more and more papers along the way. I had a few more classes with Tom, that made the day bearable. The day came to a close. Me and Tom said our good byes and proceeded to go off on our own. I got home to find a predictable scene. I plopped my bag down by the door and kicked off my shoes. Wayne was lying on the couch drinking bear and yelling at the small television.

" 'EY! GIRL! GET YOUR ASS IN THE KITCHEN AND MAKE ME SOME DINNER." He shouted.

I wasn't the best cook, but I knew if I didn't do my best he would hurt me, or worse, my mother. I made my way into the kitchen. It was only two thirty, but Wayne always ate early. That way he could go out drinking with a full stomach. I made the simplest thing I could, pasta. I knew I would be criticized, but it was to be expected no matter what. I got to work and decided it was best to just keep quiet.