The Day I Ran away from Home The noon was approaching quickly and I had to do something immediatly. I gazed at the door waiting for any impulse that could move my body. My legs were poised so they could run as fast as my hands pulled the door lock, but anything was happening. At that moment, I started to feel frightened and I was unsure about the decision that I had taken last night: I was going to run away from home. The thought was exciting and it was filled with adrenaline, that precious substance that our bodies produce and that makes us feel thrilled. I started sweating when I heard the door shutting and it intensified when I heard my father's old motorcycle starting. I used the motorcycle to go as far as I could. I was neither a misbehaved child nor a rebel teen, I was just bored of the rutine and the nasty feeling of being inprisoned by your own destructive thoughts. I considered myself very intelligent to get away with the crime, but the school called my parents and then, they called the police that found me eating ice cream sitting under a tree in the farthest park from my house.