She stepped out onto the field. Raindrops splattered everywhere, the cold water weighing her down. Drenched, with nowhere to go, she decided to head off to the local supermarket, hoping to buy something to eat with the very little money she had.
A young boy with his mother screamed as she walked by yelling, “Mommy! A monster! A monster!”
She grinned as he pointed at her, his mom giving an apologetic look while dragging him off. Agreeing that she must’ve looked a bit scary she examined her reflection in a puddle. She hadn’t bathed or groomed herself for the last four days. Her dark curls covered her face. She sort of did look like a monster out of some old horror movie. Her skin was pale, eyes groggy from the little sleep she had in the past few days, with eyeliner and mascara drooping down her face. She reached the supermarket just in time to see the lights turn off.

“Great,” she thought.
For the first time since she ran away, she felt frightened and alone. It didn’t feel like that when she had left home.
“No,” she thought. When she had first left the house she felt free and happy. She felt happy that she didn’t have anyone telling her what to do. Happy that she didn’t have people there to criticize her every move. She was on her own. But now she wished she was with her family. She missed the rose scent of her mother’s perfume, the rough touch of her father’s hands, the cheesy jokes of her older brother Rick, and the innocent giggles from her infant sister Mirabelle.
“But I can’t go back, not now! It’s too late! They’ll hate me!” she yelled out loud to herself. But taking slow steps, she started her journey back home.
An hour later she stood on the driveway of 22 Maple Avenue. The lights turned on, and the last thing she remembered was the scent of rose, the gentle touch of rough hands, a cheesy joke, and a giggle of laughter. Home sweet home.