<Tab/>It was already almost time to leave. Time to pack up and move on with my life. As I slowly walked out of my parents house no goodbyes and no hugs were exchanged. All I received was an inaudible grunt when I told them I was leaving. My friend of eight years, Ryan, was waiting outside for me. He's Hispanic, about 5'10 built averagely with black hair. I loaded my belongings into the back of his old beat up blue 85 Toyota Camry. As he pulled out and started to drive away, I was lost in my own thoughts wondering if I was ever going to see my family again.
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