“No!  You don’t understand me!  You NEVER understand!  I hate you!!!” she seethes in her native tongue.

She runs up the stairs, down the hallway, her loathing apparent in her rapidly shuffling feet.

The door to her bedroom slams shut.

A few moments later, a knock on the door.  Her mother gently turns the door knob but it is locked tight.

On the other side of the door, she hears her mothers soft voice, asking her, ever so gently, to open the door.

No response.

Her mother slowly plods down the hallway, whispering to her father.

Hours later, stillness.  Quiet.  Her parents have long gone to bed.

The bedroom door creeks open.   She glides down the hallway, down the stairs, breezes through the kitchen, shoving whatever food she can into her backpack, through the den, waits, listens, hears nothing… She nervously grabs hold of the door knob, takes one glance back, breathes a breathless sigh of uncertainty and disappears into the cool night air.

“They didn’t believe me” she thought.  “They never believed me.”

She had made the seemingly idle threat to run away from home no fewer than four times.

Nervous.  Terrified.  Quietly defiant.  These emotions overlapped one another, over and over, over and over, as she plodded down the moonlight streaked sidewalk.  Night still fully encompassing, yet daylight assuredly on its way.

Night slowly turns into day.

Day envelops her, promising excitement, energy, a new beginning!

Which rapidly turns to dread.  Hours roll by.  She loses herself in questions.  In regret.  In anger.  In sadness.

Sitting, quiet, alone, night beckoning once again, she looks up and sees a cute boy approaching.

“Hi” he says.

“Hi” she replies meekly.

Time rolls by.  She pours her heart out to this caring soul, this angel.

He tells her his story.  He also ran away.  He lived in the city, in the streets.  Until he found a family.  They too understand.  They love him, care for him.  They all look out for each other.

“Do you want to meet them?  They’ll really like you.  You can come and live with us!” his enthusiasm, his charm, impossible for her to resist.  A new family.  They care.  They understand me.  They KNOW me.

They walked into a strange building.  The door locked behind them.  She peered down a hallway.  Strange men lurked about.  Girls, no older than her, filed into rooms, a thoughtless, emotionless, empty expression enveloping and overwhelming their very existence. The strange, lurking men (continue reading…)

BLUETREE ANNOUNCES FIRST U.S. / CANADIAN TOUR

Billboard Correspondent Applauds Band, New York City Broadcast Journalist Says Tour Is One Not To Miss
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“God Of This City” Enters Radio’s Top 10

(Nashville, TN) May 21, 2009 – Belfast, Ireland-based modern worship band Bluetree, whose acclaimed album, God Of This City, has become one the best selling Christian recordings this year, receives a boost this week from American Idol winner Kris Allen.  Allen has been performing the title track to Bluetree’s album, “God Of This City,” a song birthed by the band in a brothel in Thailand.   (continue reading…)