As I’m walking down the dark street at night, I feel the rain hitting against my hood. Pat Pat Pat. I don’t see much, but I can hear cars moving every once in a while. I can feel the stuff moving in my bag. The stuff doesn’t move much because I overstuffed it. In there I have clothes, food, toiletries, water, and a sleeping bag. I also have my phone and a portable charger. I decided to run away, but not literally run. It is the middle of the night; no one is going to be running after me until the morning. I am going to live in the forest, but not because it is the only place they won’t find me. It is because the forest is the reason that I ran away. I feel like it calls to me every time I’m near it. The sounds feel like whispers. The breeze feels like it’s pulling further in. It says “Come. This is where you belong, Julie. This is where you should live.”
It’s kind of odd that the forest calls me Julie because that is not even close to my name, but somehow I just always knew that it was talking to me. Here I am-the forest. I love the night sounds and the little eyes peering from behind every single bush. I sit down and start a fire with some matches. I brought plenty because I don’t know how long I’m going to live here. I took out a peanut butter sandwich and ate it. I only have enough food for a month, so I’ll need to learn how to hunt or find a stream to fish from. I wasn’t running from anything, I was running to something. The nature of the forest; the quiet. That’s what I ran for. I love the way the forest works, and I don’t think I’ll ever go back.
Today I found a stream which will supply food and water. The fish in the stream are easy to catch as well. The only problem is, when I was looking for the stream I found a tree with a missing poster on it. They are already looking for me. Three people have already taken phone numbers off of the poster. I am going to rip them all off and throw them into the stream so no more people will have them. I am going to also stop writing for now. At least until enough people think I’m dead that I can stop hiding all of the time. I will write again when I can.