When I was around the age of six, my family lived with my Great Grandma. One day my sister was allowed to walk alone to her friends down the street, but I wanted to join her. My mom refused so I decided to take things into my own hands and walk alone. I told her that I was going down stairs to visit my grandma and then I went on my way out the door. After about 20 minutes of no one knowing where I ran off to my sister found me sitting on the sidewalk crying, because I knew I was in big trouble. I never "ran away" after that again, because I knew that I was lonely and scared even though I was 4 houses down the street from my own.
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