Running is all I know. The first time that I remember when we ran away from the "bad men" as mom and dad put it, was when I was four. Mom ran into my room in the middle of the night and ripped me out of my bed. I cried the whole time. I didn't fully understand what was happening. I don't know why the bad men were after us. I was never allowed to ask questions, I'm still not allowed. Most of the time life is normal, happy even. Then out of nowhere I'm told to pack my things and get in the car. I don't think we'll ever stop running. Running away from the bad men, that may or may not even exist. I think my parents are crazy, but what do I know? I'm just a little girl that should listen to her parents. So I listen and run, because like I said, running is all I know.