The document is a first-person narrative that describes the speaker's history of being in multiple foster homes and states. It focuses on their most recent experience, where they were adopted by a couple, Damen and Rose Alexander. Initially things seemed normal, but Damen became physically abusive after the speaker refused to answer questions. After being beaten, the speaker planned to run away by taking money from Damen's office and taking a train to Pennsylvania in the night. They hoped to find a safer place to hide out.

1. The Runner
New school. New state. New family. New life. I’ve been in six foster homes; been
adopted and put back for adoption two times; ran away five times. I’ve been to nine
different states. Utah, Pennsylvania, California, Idaho, Montana, Texas, Wyoming,
Alabama, and my most recent one – with my sixth foster home and ninth state – Florida.
They call me the Runner. It’s been my nickname ever since the first time I ran
away. It was six years ago, when I was ten. I was with my first adopted family in
California. At first they were really nice to me when they were at my first foster home.
“We will take care of Cerulean,” Mr. And Mrs. Alexander – Rose and Damen
--said to old foster parents, Evelyn and Roman Smith.
“I know you will,” Evelyn said with a smile. She knew they were strict, and
hoped that they would straighten me out.
I was a rebel, to put it in short words. I’d attempted to run away twice from
Evelyn’s place. I also beat up a kid for slamming me. His name is Vander. He’s a year
older than I, but was a lot smaller then. I was in the living room watching TV and he
came up and stood right in the way, facing me. I told him to move unless he wanted to
die (which wasn’t really effective coming from a ten year old) and he just smirked and
said, “What, are your parents going to come back from the dead and get me?”
I got really irritated and stood up to punch him. I got him right on the nose and it
started bleeding. He faced me and I puffed my chest and balled my fists at my side. He
pushed me back down and punched my cheek, making it sting. I lifted my legs pushed
hard at his stomach and he fell to the ground. I got up quickly and kneeled by him and
starting punching his face everywhere. Adrenaline rushed through me and I couldn’t stop.
Suddenly his hands were on my shoulders and he was pushing me side ways. I strained
against his grip but he was suddenly stronger. He lifted his balled fist and I squeezed my
eyes shut to prepare for what was going to happen next. My shoulders suddenly got
released and I dared to open my eyes. He stood up and walked away. I stood up and

2. stared at him. As he was about to leave the room, Roman walked in right at that moment
and saw our bloody faces and knuckles.
“What’s going on here,” he growled. Vander and I didn’t look at each other or
him. We were both terrified of what would happen next. After all, we were only ten and
eleven. “Fine,” Roman said, “If neither of you are going to tell me, then you are both
grounded.”
I looked over at Vander and scowled at him. It was his entire fault after all.
Anyways, Roman and Evelyn decided not to tell the Alexander’s about this “little
incident”, so they like to call it. They didn’t want to scare them away, but what they
really meant was, “You’re too harmful to live here but it will look bad on our part if we
put you in a different foster home so try and be good.” I wasn’t going to be good, and
they both knew that.
The first couple of weeks were good. Their daughter was too young to beat up
even though her baby sounds were very annoying I remained cool. Rose and Damen
Alexander seemed like a normal family. They both went to work while I went to school
and baby Lariah went to daycare. When Rose picked me up we went and got Lariah and
went home to cook dinner. I stayed in the living room with the baby until Damen got
home. Then I’d go up to my room until I’d be called for dinner. I never talked unless I
was spoken to. It was pretty easy, except for when they figured that out so they started
asking questions about me.
“What do you like to do,” they would ask.
“Be alone,” I would answer. Then they would look at each other and, what it
seemed like, have a silent conversation that I never understood. Sometimes I tried to read
their expressions, but I never got passed their masks.
It went on like this for a couple of weeks. Finally, they couldn’t bare my
quietness. I was up in my room when I heard a firm knock. I reluctantly got up from my
sitting position on my bed and opened the door. They looked into my almost eleven year
old eyes.
“We have a question for you, Cerulean,” Damen said. When I didn’t answer, they
continued. “Why are you so quiet?”

3. I shrugged and stretched my arm to shut the door. Damen caught my arm and
yanked me out of my room. I heard Rose gasp as Damen continued to pull me down the
hall. I followed at ease, not showing any emotion. I learned that showing emotion is a
sign of weakness. Damen abruptly stopped and turned to face me, hand still locked firmly
around my arm. I looked him straight in the eyes. He asked me another question, “ Are
you going to answer my question, Cerulean? Or do I have to show some punishment?”
He raised his arm above my head and I flinched.
“Honey, don’t,” Rose said only daring to take one-step closer.
“Stay out of this, Rose,” he replied. “Go downstairs. Now!” His yelling made me
flinch again and I heard high heels click down the hard wood stairs. I felt his eyes on me
and turned back to face him again. “Answer me!”
I looked up at his hand and looked down. Then I felt the weight of his hand plus
all of his strength hit me right on my side just below my rib cage. I let out a sound that I
never had recognized before. I’d gotten in fights before, but this pain was excruciating. I
shied away as far as I could, but his arm was longer than the space between us. He hit me
again in the same spot and I let out a cry of pain, but not letting a tear escape my pleading
eyes. I refused to talk, for I knew that he was only trying to get me to talk. He hit me
again, and again, until I could no longer stand and I hit the ground. Only then did he stop
hitting me.
I wanted him to start to cry and fall to ground with me and wrap me in his arms to
say he was sorry. Only it didn’t happen that way. He grabbed my face and forced me to
look at him. His lip curled into a snarl.
“You little brat! I thought I wanted a daughter; but you are a demonic child! I will
not have you in my house unless you straighten up and start showing some respect to
your parents!” As he talked, saliva was flying out of his mouth and onto my face.
I wiped off my face with my sleeve and peeled his hands away from my face. He
didn’t try and grab me as I stood up and started walking away. Before I entered my room,
I turned on my heel and looked at him. “You’re not my parents,” I said with an even
voice. Then I turned back, walked into my room, and shut the door softly.
I heard an agitated groan and heavy footsteps going down the stairs. When I heard
the front door slam, I looked out my window to find Damen getting in his car and driving

4. away. When his car disappeared, I walked in front of mirror and pulled my shirt half way
up. When I saw what damage was done, I flinched violently. There were purple and black
bruises on the left side of my stomach, below the rib cage. It was already starting to swell
and it hurt badly. I wanted to cry, but I couldn’t do that. I couldn’t risk it if someone
walked in and saw me like that. Instead, I went over to my desk, turned on the lamp, and
started planning out my run-away plan.
Being only ten, I was pretty smart when it came to running away and how to do it
prestigiously. This is how I did it: Once the Alexander’s were asleep, I would go down
the hall to Damen’s study. There he had a little box that he kept all of his money in. I
counted it when he was in the shower. There is two hundred thirty-five dollars. I checked
online to see how much a train ticket would cost for a one-way and one person, and it’s
seventy-five dollars. I would then have one hundred sixty dollars left. My destination was
Pennsylvania. I didn’t know anyone there. I didn’t know anyone anywhere, really. But I
thought that maybe a nice family would pick me up.
After I got all of the money into a safe part of my bag with some of my clothes
and notebook, I snuck out of the window to my room and landed in the backyard. There
were fences blocking my way to go into the other families yards, but there was a gate on
the east side of the house that I could easily jump over. Once I jump over it, I would
continue down the street going east toward the main part of town. There is a train station
close by the old shut down mall. Since it’s California, no one was going to think it’s
strange that ten year-old were getting on a train by herself. From there, I would go to
Pennsylvania and hide out there. I don’t know why I like that place so much, but it
seems…Safer. I couldn’t wait to leave.