Date: April 1, 2013
Time: 8am
Dear Diary,
I am frightened. I have just rolled my two wheeled cart and my only suitcase from the subdivision I had been living in since I was nineteen years of age to the town of Devon; it took all night, and there were a few touchy moments where I thought people were going to do me ill will, but I finally made it. I am going to Edmonton; I am going home. Mother said she would gladly have me home even after the way I treated her and Father, so home it is, even though it means going under her thumb for a while until I get my feet beneath me again. I am going to be glad to see them.
I wrote to them both a week ago stating my plans, and they encouraged me to find a way to get to Devon without the aid of walking, or hitch-hiking. I scoffed at the idea because I knew people would let him know. They even offered to come, but the family's schedule is so hectic that I didn't know when would be the best. I knew I was taking my life into my own hands, but I couldn't think of another way.
It took me several days to do this, and I know people were looking for me because I could hear people calling for me during the day. I found a place each time that kept me from the searchers. The Lord only knows how I did it, but I did. I walked during the night. I was stopped several times and asked if I wanted a ride. Now I'm in the bus depot and have my ticket in hand.
The bus is finally here. I'm getting on.
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