Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters except for Katianna.
I watched her silent form, just sitting there across the room. Staring at the photo as she always did. Her ex-husband, Tommy, sent it. It was a constant reminder of the life she left behind, the daughter she ran from.
"Andrea." She said to herself.
Running her thumb over the photo, trying to somehow make contact. Mom rose from her seat and gently placed the picture on the coffee table. She staggered into the kitchen to make herself tea.
I crawled over to the coffee table and retrieved the photo. I ogled at it. I ogled at her. My sister, Andrea McNally, her dark brown hair went past her shoulders. Her wide smile illuminated the photo. Next to her was the man whose name I've never known, His black hair was short cropped he wore a wide dimpled smile. They both proudly wore police uniforms.
Mom sat down on the couch in front of me.
"I found out who the man in the photo was the other day." She said.
"He's Tommy's old rookie, Sam Swarek. He's her T.O."
I looked down at the photo again. "I want to met them. Andrea, Tommy and Sam Swarek." I murmured.
Mom stood from her seat, tea still in hand. "Katianna I would give anything to see those people." She paused "Even you." She stalked off into her room and slammed the door.
I stayed there, on the floor gaping at the picture. I was used to her treating me like second best. For twelve years I've put up with it. I don't have a dad to run to when things get bad, I've never even met the man. I only have myself.
Maybe it's time to leave I thought. If mom doesn't know where Andrea is maybe I have to go find her.
I went to my bedroom, trying my hardest not to make any noise and grabbed my backpack. I got food, money from my mom's wallet, clothes and my cellphone. I said a silent good bye and left our tiny apartment. Mom should be happy, one less mouth to feed.
I walked through the streets of Toronto, backpack on my shoulder, feeling as if I could over come anything. Well I did, until my stomach growled.
I sat on the nearest bench and reached in my bag, digging for one of the granola bars I had stuffed inside. As I ate one I checked the time: 1:03. Mom never cared how late I was up till so I normally up this late. But I wasn't normally sitting on a park bench blocks from our apartment. Though it's not the first time I've tried to run away, still I never made it past the door. Something inside me always thought, hoped, that mom would change. But today it dawned on me she wouldn't.
A yell startled me from my thoughts.
"Hey kid! What are you doing out so late?"
I turned to see a police officer walking towards me. My eyes grew wide.