When I woke again, the cat was still there. It had obviously woken at some point because it was laying on its other side. That filled my heart with more love and joy than anything ever had. It didn't know me from Adam and yet it had chosen to stay with me. A whole world surrounded it, waiting for it to explore the beauty, and yet this kind little soul chose to keep me company as I slept.

The earth felt warm beneath me, heated by the June sun all day, but the slight chill in the air told me it would be setting soon, and another night would soon be upon me. Time to make some decisions. Did I stay here a little while longer or did I move deeper onto the moor? I glanced over at my feline friend and smiled. I didn't want to move and wake him or her. I would stay until the cat left me.

My throat felt as dry as the desert, but I knew if I reached for the water in my bag, the cat would wake and leave. As much as I knew that would happen eventually, I didn't want it to be because I'd forced it. I turned my thoughts to Marsha and Roger. Did they know I'd gone yet? Had anyone even missed me at school today? Having left my phone at Marsha's, I felt such a sense of relief and freedom from not having it on me I wondered why I'd ever wanted one in the first place.

Not being tied to an electronic device made way to enjoy the simple, beautiful things in life, such as the company of a strange cat. Or the sound of crickets chirping as the sun set. Things that were taken for granted and overlooked every single day in place of a virtual world that bred nothing but bullies and hate.

Some time after dark, the cat finally rose to its feet. It stretched out its legs, meowed at me, and trotted off into the night. It wasn't skinny by any means which meant it most likely had a home where someone loved it. I smiled to myself and finally sat up, quenching my need for water. I didn't feel hungry in the slightest, so I didn't bother to open any of my food. No point in eating it just for the sake of it.

I stood up, brushed myself down and guided by moonlight again, moved on. I emerged from the trees into the wide-open plains of the moor. I knew all the local legends about 'The Beast of Bodmin Moor' but I paid little attention to them. There were so many stories to prove its existence and just as many to disprove.

Personally, I felt it more than likely. I'd studied pictures, videos, and reports. Some of them were obviously domestic cats, but others were clearly something else. When the skull of a big cat was found on the edge of the moor a couple of years back, that kind of cemented the truth for me. Whether anything was still lurking around was another question.

Dartmoor Zoo claimed to have released puma's back in the eighties which would mean at least two generations of them had lived up to now. Whatever the case, if my end was to be a grisly, bloody death by a big cat, then so be it. It would just about be the perfect ending to my life. I smiled as I realised it really would be like mother like daughter if I died a gory death too.

I ambled across the uneven ground carefully. Now away from civilisation, I had no need to keep up a hurried pace. The last thing I needed right now would be an injury. The silence out here on the moor was so profound, it bordered on eerie. Combined with the moonlight and how vulnerable I was being out in the open, I shuddered as I wondered if a pair of glowing green eyes were watching me from the long grass, waiting to pounce and end me at any given moment.

My destination for the evening's journey was a small area of woodland and trees east of King Arthur's Hall. Thanks to my keen interest in the supposed beast that lived out here, I knew where various landmarks were along the moor and would use them as my map. A small river ran just south of the woodland, it was remote, and provided perfect shelter.

I walked for what felt like hours, my feet and my legs soon complaining of the exercise once again. When I skirted the fence of King Arthur's Hall and saw my destination in the distance, I found my second wind. With no idea of what the time was, I felt nothing but free. That alone gave me so much happiness.

When I finally reached the trees, and saw how pitch black it was inside, I decided the clever thing to do would be to wait until daylight before venturing inside. I'd made it this far under moonlight and stars, the last thing I needed was to injure myself right as I reached the end. I could afford to sit on the treeline and wait for daylight. It's not like anyone would be walking by here anytime soon. My only company would be nocturnal insects and animals.

I sat down with my back against one of the trees and groaned in delight. My feet were throbbing and I was fairly certain I could feel a blister or two forming on my heels. My thighs ached like I'd done a hundred squats. I scolded myself for letting my fitness levels drop these past few months. I'd felt so comfortable and relaxed at Marsha's that I'd felt no need to continue with my daily jogs.

In the past, my sole intention of keeping fit had been for situations like this. Whenever social services shipped me somewhere new, I never went with the thought of 'this could be my forever home' but with the thought of 'I wonder how long I'll stay here' or 'I wonder where I'll be this time next month'. As a result, making sure I was in top shape, ready to flee at a moments notice, had been my highest priority.

When I was placed at Marsha's though, I knew instantly things were different. This would be somewhere I could stay for more than a couple of months. Instead of my usual 'I wonder where I'll be this time next month' I thought 'I wonder how I'll mess this one up'. And here I was, messing it all up. I wasn't stupid enough to believe I wouldn't be found, it was only a matter of time, I knew that, but being out here gave me the perfect opportunity to make the most of the time I would have to myself.

Geraldine, my social worker, would be absolutely livid. Every time something went wrong it was always my fault. Even when I told her the truth about abusive foster parents, it was always somehow my fault. I'd even come to wonder if she cared more about her statistics and perfect KPI's than she did the kids she looked after.

But for now, I didn't need to worry about that. It would be weeks before they found me and that would give me more than enough time to clear my head, set myself straight, and be ready to jump back into the murky abyss of the foster system.

I leaned my head back against the tree and sighed. Thoughts of my father filtered in from somewhere and I couldn't help but wonder what had happened to him. Had he gone to prison? Had he been to rehab and turned his life around maybe? Or was he still the same bitter, twisted person? Did he regret what he'd done? Was he dead?

As I pondered over the options, I realised that actually, him being dead was probably the best option. If by some miracle he'd managed to turn his life around and become a nice person, I still knew his capabilities, the darkness that lurked deep inside him. I'd never be able to forgive him for killing my mum, no matter his state of mind at the time.

There was a lot to be said for the whole nature versus nurture argument. I had every justification under the sun to be a copycat of my father, but I had no desire to be like that. It wasn't in my nature. Yet he was evil right down to the core. He was born a rotten apple and just soured more and more as life went on.

From what I did know of his upbringing, he'd been born to a wealthy family, had opportunities galore handed to him on a silver plate and yet he chose a life that was the exact opposite. His family disowned him and as a result, I had grandparents out there as well as two aunts and three uncles, that I had never met and likely never would meet. All because of his selfishness and the shadows he wanted to live in.

I hoped, if he was dead, that he could see all the suffering he'd caused and would be remorseful, maybe even help direct my life in a good way, to make up for the sins he'd committed and the nightmare I'd been forced to live as a result.

Out of the corner of my left eye, I caught movement along the empty moor. I turned my head and almost gasped in surprise. Limping along the vast landscape was nothing other than a lone horse.