I’m running as fast as my legs will take me. My lungs burn from the cold air being sucked into them as my heart races. I don’t want to shift, I just want to run, to feel the burn, the pain. The bag on my back isn’t helping, but I refuse to go back there for anything. My parents are horrible. I didn’t stop running until I’d landed on a familiar doorstep. It’s the only place I could think to go and the nearest to my house. I lifted my hand and knocked lightly at the front door. Sierras father answered it, an emerging smile apparent on his lips. “Can I help you?”, he said in a slightly teasing tone. “Yes, is Sierra here?”, I asked breathlessly.
The next thing I knew, the door was slammed in my face. Now what? Where do I go? I stepped off the porch and started walking, feeling defeated. I
