Neither of us can remember why we started running. The first thing we remember is running out of the yard, pushing open the wooden gate and scampering through the thorny branches.

“Guys, slow down!” one of our friends yelled in annoyance. They had no idea what we two were up to; neither did we.

We can’t even remember which one of us was leading.

But at that moment, a fuse lit within us, and we ran faster. We kept running and running until the voices faded away.

We finally stopped, panting, hands on our knees.

“Why did you start running?”
“I don’t know. Why did you?”
“No idea.”

We panted some more.

“They’re gonna be pissed.”
“I know.”

We started walking, still heading away from home. We talked little. Mostly, we enjoyed the unspoken connection that had spurred us into freedom.

When we eventually returned home, we couldn’t explain to our friends why we had gone. There were no words. There had just been that moment, where our two adolescent minds connected and said, “RUN!”