"One day I'm gonna run away from here."
"And then what?" He didn't bother looking at me which irritated me. I wanted him react. To care. To stop me.
"And then maybe I'll be happy once I'm away from this stupid place."
He shook his head. "You wont."
"Won't what? Be happy or run away?"
"Either one. You won't run away because you're too scared. Scared to be alone, scared to try something new, scared to move on. You're scared of everything. And you won't be happy no matter where you are because it's not the place that's the problem."
For a second, I processed what he'd said.
I wanted to be mad at him. I wanted to yell in his face and tell him he was wrong about me, that he didn't know a thing. But a tiny curl of panic ignited and burned beneath my sternum, because maybe he wasn't so wrong after all.
"Watch me." I said, ignoring the burn of fear and stomping away. So what if he thought I was scared? So what if there was more to my pain than the town I was trapped in? There's more to everything in life, all the time.
I was going to prove him wrong.
I would prove them all wrong and never look back.
