Leaving

Wrote this at a workshop. Prompt was to write from someone else's perspective. My mom's...

I remember the flashing lights, Red and Blue
Illuminating the dirty shades covering the broken glass of my window
I remember being afraid, afraid of getting caught, of getting in trouble and being locked away.
Alone. By myself with no one to comfort me.
Invisible to those I love the most, and being forgotten.
My first reaction was I needed to run, hide before they take everything I love away.
Out the back door, past those sad, lonely eyes that blinked up at me from that dark room.
And for a split second, I remembered my duty, what I was supposed to do.
Those lives I had to protect and take care of, but the bottle of misfortune I had the stupidity to pick up
and not enough sense to put down distorted me senses and made me keep running.
Once I started, I couldn't stop.
My legs ached, my lungs burned,my heart pounded.
And yet, I still ran.