Chapter Text
Rain pattering against the window. Almost in rhythm with my heart, Tap, tap tap. I take a
swig. Tap, tap, tap, and another. The warm liquid trickles down my throat, leaving behind a
blooming warmth in my chest. I fucking hate it here. The bottle shakes in my lap, a quarter
empty. I set the intoxication liquid down next to me on the floor and began to make my way to
the bathroom. Stumbling through the halls I make it to my destination. After finding the light
switch I look in the mirror seeing a ghost of my former self.
“Jesus I look like shit”
The bags under my eyes are dark purple, My lips are chapped, and my hair is brittle.
They claimed the medication would help but, all it's good for is getting me drunker faster.
Gracelessly I dig through the cupboards searching for some sort of relief. I can feel my
heartbeat in my head and the pressure prodigy my brain, a relentless headache. Finally, my
fingers brush across the filler container, I pour four small red capsules into the palm of my hand
and head back to my room down the hall. Once in the tiny dark room I pick the glass bottle off
the floor and use it to chase the pills. I close my eyes and let out a sigh of relief, the room starts
to ever so slightly tilt and spin. It's one-thirteen am, Thursday or I suppose Friday, May 19th.
The latest I can sleep in is until seven. That should give me enough time to get ready for school,
right?
I lay on my mattress for a good thirty minutes and yet sleep never came. I sat up and
reached towards my school bag and pulled out my mom's pack of cigarettes that “mysteriously”
went missing. I pull one out at random and then for the lighter on my bedside table. I shuffle
over to my window where I move my loose and crooked screen to the side just enough to prop
my hand through. I light the cigarette and take a long, deep drag. The slight stimulating buzz
gets sent to my brain resulting in me bobbing my head a little. If I'm being honest with myself I
may have gone a little too far. This isn't necessarily enjoyable, it's more or less a distraction. As
the minutes pass the more my head spins.
“Fuck me”
I worked towards finishing my cigarette when I ultimately heard the front door burst open.
“Shit, shit, shit”
My window faced the driveway meaning he most definitely saw me. I stub the stick out
on my window seal. Large steps boomed throughout the early quiet house. Frantically I rushed
to hide the pack and the glass bottle, perhaps making too much noise in the process. He's
walking in the hall, maybe even in front of my bedroom door ready to pounce. The warm
comforting fuzzies in my chest are rapidly replaced by the intense feelings of fear. My door is
abruptly and harshly swang on its hinges. My stepdad comes barreling towards me. The harshand never-forgiving scent- of liquor and smoke never leaves. My mouth becomes dry and my
stomach twists.
“What the fuck do you think you're doing!?” Ronnie, my stepfather screamed. His voice
was so loud it shook the house. Tears began to well up in my eyes, threatening to leak from my
flushed face. I hid the evidence behind my back.
“N-nothing sir.” I internally cursed myself for stuttering as if it wasn't blatantly apparent I
was petrified of this man.
“Nothing? Really! You want to try again because I was pulling up after a long day at
meetings and the airport and guess what I see!?”
“What s-sir,” I say practically trembling in my boots.
“Some low-life whore smoking out her window. Then I realized It was coming from my
house! And that low-life whore is my wife's Degenerate daughter. Are you not happy here? Do I
not do enough for you? I do so much for this family and yet you still make me out to be the bad
guy. Do you know how you make me look at the people in this town? A travesty, Yeah that's
right. They look at me and think of this stupid cunt who would rather sit and fry her brain cells
than set an example for her family. Do you want me to kick you and your mom back out on the
streets where I found you? It would sure as hell make my life easier!” Ronnie yelled
“We never lived on the streets,” I mumble under my breath.
“The fuck did you just say?”
“Nothing” I defend
“Sounds like back talk to me, and you know what happens when you disrespect me in
my house!”
I would rather not think about what happened after that was said. At two am he finally
left. I need to get the fuck out of here.
--
My skin aches, It feels pulled too tight against my bones. Blood pools under my skin,
yellow and purple marks staining my skin. My previous wounds are still healing. If only I knew he
was coming home tonight. Tear-stained face void of any emotion. He always does this shit, I'm
so sick of how he treats me and my mom. I miss the way things used to be, before Ronnie when
it was just my mom and me. She's not her anymore. No, that person died when she fell head
over heels at his feet. I've begged and pleaded with her but to no avail. I don't know what to do.
I'm suffocating. Drowning. I can't breathe. I can't think. Out. I need out! The walls look at me
mockingly, they know everything and there is still no help. Familiar, eh?
The clock reads four thirty-eight am, yet I'm not tired. I haven't moved an inch since.
What if I leave? Leave this fucked up place behind. Start new, fresh. Why haven't I thought of this before? It's such a clear definitive answer. It would fix all my problems. Ha, that fuckface
would be glad I'm gone. Mom is a worthless piece of shit she wouldn't look for me. No this is
perfect, I just need a plan. Okay, think. Mom will be up around seven to start her daily routine,
and since Ronnie just got home I'm assuming he’ll be out for a good while. That leaves me a
window of three-ish hours. It's a twenty-minute walk to the bus stop in town, I'll figure out where
to go when I get that far. I got this. I can do this. I have to do this. If you don't you're going to end
up dying here.
My heart is racing, the adrenaline feels phenomenal. I walk towards my bedroom door
and listen, quieting my breathing. Snoring. Just what I wanted. I feel a slight smile rise on my
strained face. Quickly I search my closet, I grab my school bag. Dumping the miscellaneous
papers and books out on my bed. I grab a yellow notebook out from the pile. I need a list. I sit
and ponder then begin to write.
List
_________________
- Ronnies card Cash.
- Boots and converse
- Jacket
- Socks, bras, and underwear
- Few shirts?
- Jeans and sweatpants
- Portable charger
- Brush
- tampons
- food
- Water bottle
- Smokes and lighter
- Pocket knife? Pepper Spray?
Does that seem reasonable enough? Worse case I can beg on the street or some shit. I need to
pick up the pace. It takes fifteen minutes for me to scrounge up everything. My heart beats a bit
fast every time too much noise is made. The rain outside is still pouring down, I don't know
where I would find an umbrella. Honestly, I don't think we own one. Whatever, I'll live. Feet jitter
across the wooden first floor. Hands tremble with fright. Or exhilaration? Both. stuttering hands
reach for my parent's bedroom door. Twist. Click. The hinges creak and I cringe. Loud snoring
and ambiance fill out the room. My feet softly move against their floor heading towards the pile
of damp clothes on the floor halfway under Ronnie's side of the bed. My breath sits trapped in
my throat. My heart is going so fast that I swear it's loud enough to wake them both up right
here, right now. Something stirs in the bed. Fuck, fuck, fuck. My blood goes cold. Hands still
proceeding towards his pants pocket. Fingers graze the brown leather wallet.
“Sweetie?” a soft voice breaks the silence. “What are you doing? A-are you stealing from
your father?” I love my mother dearly. I do but, her calling that abusive piece of shit my father
was enough to make my blood boil. A deep breath of air fills my lungs. Steady yourself. I
grabbed all the cash that was in his wallet. Surprisingly a decent amount. and shove it into my
pocket. Legs like jelly, I stand. My eyes grabbed onto the sharp feathers of my timid mother. She
was once so full of life and beautiful. I hate him. He ruined everything. I take small steps
rounding the bed. She looks ghastly. My trembling hand reaches up for her face. Cheeks hollow
and piercing.
“Mom, I can't do this anymore” My voice breaks mid-sentence heartache slipping
through my ragged voice. “Please open your eyes and see he isn't the answer, and neither are
the pills. I love you. Stay safe..”
Her eyes glisten in the pale moonlight. She opens her mouth and starts to speak.
“Don't,” I say, moving my hand to her trembling lips. My eyes filled with malice look toward the
sleeping figure next to her. I give her a small smile and drop my hand. I turn towards the door. I
can hear her sobs behind me. I hope she realized this is the right thing to do. I can't live under
his rule anymore. I want freedom. I start walking towards the front door taking small glances
towards the place that has held me, prisoner, since my dad died. Free. slinging my backpack
over my sheathed shoulder and slipping my boots on. Door opening. Heart pounding. The rain
beats against the ground. It smells fresh and musky. A true and genuine smile erupts from my
lips. My feet automatically start moving without a single thought. Adrenaline coursed through my
veins. I want to get as far away from this horrid place as possible. My boots start to proud
across the pavement, causing rainwater and mud to slash up my legs. The same legs that went
faster and faster until I broke into a sprint. Almost free. The wind whipped my wet hair all around
my face. It was cold. I passed Houses and cars. I ran and ran until I started gasping for air. The
pain in my lungs was unbearable. Nonetheless, I kept going, the burning feeling fed the flame
that was growing inside of me.
What felt like hours passed. I could no longer tell what was rain and what was sweat.
Whatever it was, it continued to dip down my face. I'm in so much pain I feel like I might just
double over and die. Just ahead lies the bus stop. So close. It will all finally be over. I forced my
legs to move, it felt incredibly slow compared to before. I made my way over to the bench that
sat protected from the weather. Sitting down, still letting out large huffs. I begin to laugh damn
near hysterically. It just rips its way out of me. But it feels right. Oh my god, this is fucking
insane. I pull the now-drenched cash out of my pocket. Asshole had three hundred and fifty-five
dollars on him. Jesus. It should get me somewhere though, which is good. I feel drained and
exhausted, I'll sleep on the bus. Fuck where is this going? I pull out my phone and look at the
website. 5 am bus: last stop Las Vegas, Nevada.