I don't know how things got so bad. At first, Mom and Dad were still together, and happy. But then they started having fights... Bad fights. Dad started drinking too much, and smoking, and got fired from his job. Mom locked herself in her room. Dad slapped her when he got mad. Mom got depressed, and was fired from her job, also. And then, one day... They were gone.

I woke up to a gray morning. All was quiet. At this time, six A.M., Mom and Dad were usually up, yelling at each other. Only the patter of the rain on my windows could be heard.

I slipped out of bed, in my blue nightgown, and tiptoed downstairs. It was still silent. The air was tense; something was not right:

I walked over to my parent's room. I slowly opened the door, and was shocked to see that their bed was empty. I was expecting this. It had been so bad that this could have happened, and I knew it. But still, horror shot through me. What would I do?

Their phones were gone. I could not call anyone. Our neighbor were not trustworthy. There was only one thing to do, other than get the police, but they would take my parents away. I would have to find them.

I knew where they had went. They always talked of their paradise, before they started fighting. They would go to Milan, Italy.

Doubt pierced through my mind. How would I get there? I would surely have to go on a plane, but did I have the money? Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Mom's credit card... It would at least have enough to fly to Italy, right? Or maybe take two flights? That would mean four flights in all... If I found my parents. And even though the card felt wrong in my hands, I kept it.

I packed a bag full of clothes, books, and other essential objects. I did not pack food--I figured I could buy some when I got really hungry.

I stepped out of the front door, locked it behind me, put up my umbrella, and stared into the distance, where the city was shrouded in mist. The airport was in the distance--it would be a long walk, a day or two. But I was determined to find my parents, and not the shells of themselves that they had become, but my gentle, loving parents. Those were the people I was going to bring home with me.