Without saying any bold, visionary words, I stuffed the pouch into my pocket, carried the bag Mom had prepared and walked out.
I knew they were looking at me from the door and I knew that if I looked back, I wouldn't be able to leave.
I could feel the hot tears rolling down my face but that did not stop me from moving forward.
The village road connected straight to the county town, and I didn't know how long I had walked for.
Because I was ignorant, I walked in the middle of the big road.
A massive cow-transporting vehicle honked his horn at me.
I jumped, startled. The driver stopped his truck beside me and shouted kindly, "Where are you going, little fellow? Need a lift?"
"I'm heading to town. It's alright, I'll walk slowly," I declined.
"The nearest town is about 63 kilometers away. Where are you from? Why are you here?" he asked suspiciously.
