I woke up on the cold park bench, with a flock of pigeons around me.
I looked homeless sure, but maybe I was. Fran certainly didn't want me, neither did Kyle, but maybe Rob, my step-brother.
What makes me so different I hear you say?
Well, I want colour.
My hair is bright red, well apart from the parts when Fran scrubbed some of it out, so I have random light blonde streaks.
I had to dye it.
It was my only freedom for individuality, Fran's hair was mousy, Rob's hair was brown and Kyle's hair was black.
I heard a voice, sharp, raspy.
Maybe she was worried. Not about me of course, but if she didn't find me, she would be sued.
I started to run,
I panted, streaming through the park,
My shoes started to rub on my feet, I threw them off in two directions.
One left one right.
So that they couldn't find me.
Fran's footsteps sped up, she was chasing me, someone snatched my hand.
Fran clutched my stomach, and bent my arm back, she pulled me into the place.