forget the circus, run away and join the trend

The phone hung loose and low, swaying at interval on the extent of the chord, beeps and crackles distorted the peace in a moderate sensibility. The door banged back and forth alerting all to the hasty exit. She was gone. The house a prison she had escaped and buried in her past. Just metres from the door she felt it. That rush of joy as freedom filtered into every single fibre of her soul. Regenerating the enthusiasm she had lacked for so many years. And she began to run. Across the front lawn, leaping over the gutter onto the black bitumen road that lead anywhere away from this place. There was no one chasing her and she knew it but she greedily looked back anyway just to satisfy herself that they didn’t care enough to follow. Her parents wouldn’t note her absence for a long time coming. Wrapped in their own little worlds, distracted by the noise and shine of the luminous appeal of the everyday mundane that was this life they lead. Running on adrenaline and short-sightedness she made it several blocks before allowing herself to procure a huge smirk to creep across her face. She was off to become a hipster, not that she would ever accept the title officially. She would contact them to inform them where to mail the checks she would live off, but first to find a loft and second hand clothes store, rebellion in the form of a fully imbedded sub culture. Tthis is what her life was destined to be. She was better than all around her and finally they would be told.