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Before dawn. We had to do it this early. Couldn't risk being seen.

We walk in silence, each with our own thoughts. There's a mist about this morning. We're unsure whether that's good or bad. Our footsteps ring out on the street. We wince at the sound; we can't risk being heard.

It's peaceful this early in the morning. No cars, no bikes, nothing. The entire world's asleep, except for us.

A month ago, we'd never dreamed of this. A month ago I was normal. A regular boring kid with a regular boring life, not like now. Now my life is far from regular, as far as it's possible to be. I no longer know the meaning of the word 'boredom'.

As we leave the town, I glance at the others. Haggard faces make them look older than they are. I look the same, old before my time. I've seen too much, we've all seen too much. We continue marching up the road, eyes fixed to the ground, a scruffy band.

I would have liked to stay. I've lived here my whole life; this is my home, my family. I would have liked to stay and see everyone grow up. Stay at school and finish my exams. Stay with my friends, laughing as we looked back on how we used to be, so immature and silly. Only, they aren't my friends anymore. How could they be? I grew up and they didn't. No, these are my friends now, the ones I'm marching with.

As we reach the edge of the fields the mood tightens, intensifies. The feeling that we're being watched comes over us, but we continue walking, looking over our shoulders.

The pack on my back is starting to dig in now. It's like the time we had to hike over the hills on that school trip. The class trudged over the muddy paths, moaning and complaining. We got home drenched because it had rained all day. Everyone had to carry their own pack, with spare clothes and food and by midday our shoulders were sore and aching.

Dawn begins to break as we stumble through the fields. The mist lifts and in the dim light we can just make out the tussocks and rabbit holes that had been tripping us. I used to play in these fields as a child, running and jumping through the long grass.

We're almost at the place now and we begin to walk faster. The anxiety that has been with us lifts, and is replaced by excitement, small and quiet at first, by increasingly irrepressible. We are so close, nothing and no-one can stop us now. Someone catches sight of our goal and we begin to run.
There it is. An empty field, extraordinary only by what it represents. This is it. We come to a sudden halt. Look at each other. And smile. The next minute we're roaring with laughter, throwing back our heads to the sky as emotion takes over, relief sweeping through us.

The laughter makes me think. I haven't laughed like that for a long time. I haven't felt this free for a long time.

We hurry now. To be this close and then to fail is unthinkable. I pause to gaze once more over the place I called home. The town is starting to wake up. I expected to feel sadness, but I don't. I look once again at my comrades. They are grinning, ready to leave, eager to be off.

We stand in the middle of the field. All the movement of a moment ago is gone; we stand stock still. It's as though we are waiting for a signal, but we don't need one. Suddenly, as one, we begin to run, an explosion of movement.

Then we are swooping through the fields, adrenaline carrying us forwards. This is it, I'm finally running away!

No. Not running away. Running free.