In my childhood I went from house to house.

Door to door.

I was always running. Seven runs in all.

The first was my father.

He was a drunkard with a cigar always stuck in his mouth. I was an extremely gifted child and learned to read by the time I was two. How? I started to read shampoo bottles, newspapers, and the phone book. Anything I could get my hands on, really. I taught myself. I learned to write because my father made me write the welfare checks because he couldn't. When I was five he started to abuse me and beat me. He kept me from school most of the time, and I hate to recall those memories. So I ran.

The second was the orphanage.

Child haven. That's what they call it. I only stayed two years because it was rotten. Folks coming in to buy children. Not having anyone in particular to take care of you. No one wanted to play with me. They were all older. All the little kids like me were picked up by wonderful new families with little puppies and nice mommies and daddies. But no one could have me. Not only did they not want me, but they couldn't have me. There was no paperwork. No birth certificate or anything. They couldn't even find my father. So I ran.

My third was Jeremy.

I ended up on a football field in a town two miles from my hometown. A thick black man in a big jersey found me. His voice was kind and he was sweaty. Jeremy. He took me home. His mother and father wanted nothing to do with me, even though it was my ninth birthday. They wanted to take me back to child haven or to my father. I would miss Jeremy, but his parents were ushering me into their car. So I ran.

The fourth was the pool.

I ended up at a public pool a little ways from Jeremy's house. It had bathrooms in a small building were there was a little kitchen, some couches and a table. A room for birthday party's. I slept on the couch for three days and had some muffins from a previous party. Soon people came to the pool and noticed me. They didn't like it. They called the police. So I ran.

The fifth was Casper.

Casper was a boy about fifteen walking through the streets. I called him Casper because his face was white like a ghosts. He had a black jacket and a knife. Casper was dangerous, but he was a runaway like me. He became my friend, and stole me food. Then the police came. Blue and red lights. Sirens. No more Casper. I was alone. So I ran.

The sixth was the hotel.

I came up to a huge hotel and couldn't resist. I picked a family and walked in right with them, and went up the stairs. I slept in the exercise room and got free breakfast and pool time in my clothes. But, I had to leave because one day I was woken up by one of the maids and I told her that I just had fallen asleep and that I had to get to my room. But she was suspicious. So I ran.

The last run was from the world.

Did I kill myself? No. I think I knew that it would happen, though. I snuck into an aquarium and stole some kid's popcorn as I was watching the sharks. I was walking away and fell and cut my arm on the glass edge. An aquarium guide offered me a band-aid to stop the blood. Then she asked if I would like to swim with the sharks. I was ten now, and she said I was old enough. It was fun at first. But I didn't even realize my band-aid had come off.

The blood came.

So did the sharks.

So I ran. But this time I looked down.... and they were all below me. My father, Child Haven caretakers, Jeremy, the pool, Casper, the hotel, and then the world. And I was watching over them. And for once, I was staying still.