The Runaways

Chapter One

"Skyler, get up! You're going to be late!" my dad yells as I hit my snooze button for the third time.

"Alright!" I groan. Thursdays are the worst. I roll out of bed, hop into the shower, and finish in less than ten minutes.

Walking to my closet, I pick out skinny jeans, a grey henley tee, a dark blue sweater, and my favorite pair of brown lace-up boots. Makeup? Check. As I blow-dry my hair, I hear the school bus honking. I drop the hairdryer,

grab my backpack and iPhone, and dash out the door. The bus is nearly full, but I manage to find a seat near the back next to a prissy-looking blonde haired girl. She's on her phone, babbling on about how she broke her

ex-boyfriend's heart. There's a large, black bruise of my left forearm, but I'm hoping no one will notice. The rest of them are easy to cover since they're most on my shoulders, back, and stomach. The girl's cold eyes are watching me.

Smiling, I turn to her. "Hi, can I help you?"

She rolls her eyes. "Just get lost."

My name is Skyler Jane Ripton. I'm 15 years old, and this is my life. School is heaven compared to my home life. Mom died when I was four, and

Dad is a drunk. He beat me last night and every other day since I can remember. The bus arrives at Hillcrest High School and everyone piles off. You see, I don't have many friends. The few that I do have don't go to the same school as me. Same routine every day. Wake up, school, home, sleep. Weekends? I stay away from Dad as much as possible. But the school year's almost over.

Seven hours fly by and I am on the old yellow bus once again. My phone buzzes. Three missed calls from my dad. Oh gosh..

"Hey, Ripton! This is your stop!" the bus driver interrupts my thoughts.

"Sorry," I mumble as I shuffle off the bus and onto the dirt road.

It's 4:15. That means that Dad's home. I enter my house as quietly as possible, but my phone falls out of my sweater pocket as I shut the front door behind me.

"Skyler?"

I gulp."Yeah, Dad?"

Silence. "You didn't answer my calls! Cook me some dinner!" he slurs from the living room.

I've made him dinner every night for the past week.

"I've got a lot of homework," I lie as I pick up my phone and tiptoe toward my room, "I need to get started on it."

No response. I go into my room and drop my empty backpack on my bed. As I turn around to shut my door, my father is standing right in front of me.

"When I tell you to do something, you do it!"

"Yes sir, but is it tha-" He grips my wrist tightly, making my hand turn white.

"Don't talk back me!"

"I wasn't talking back, I was just asking if-"

He grabs my shoulders and I get an awful feeling in the pit of my

stomach.

"I am your father, and if you won't respect me now, I'll make you respect me!"

I take a deep breath, and try to calm him down. "Dad, I respect you, but if I could just-"

He shoves me backwards. My body smacks the wall then sinks slowly to the floor. He squats next to me to make eye contact.

"I don't ask for much. You can't do ONE thing for me? You're just a worthless teenager and I'm sick of it!"

He rears back and slaps my face, and I feel my tears start to grow. My father turns his back on me and begins to walk away. I stand up and ball my fists. It's time I stand up to him.

"Dad." He turns around. "I'm

not worthless."

I punch him as hard as I can in the jaw. He's startled, but he growls and grabs my long, brown hair. I scream in pain as he drags me into the kitchen.

He commands, "Cook. NOW." Then he leaves me alone in the floor.

We don't even have any groceries anymore. I haven't eaten anything but what I can afford at school for the past month. What does he expect me to cook? As I wipe under my eyes to try and stop my mascara from running I know what I have to do. I put some boiling water on the stovetop and walk quietly into my room, leaving my door open so I can hear. A few shirts, pants, and shoes are shoved into my empty backpack. I also grab what cash I have, which is only about five dollars, and stick it down in my pocket. I don't have much time. Opening my small window, I take one last look at my room. Footsteps. Oh no. He's coming. I turn and leap out of the window. Landing on my knees, I quickly stand and take off running toward the woods. I don't know where I'm going. I don't care. Just somewhere far away from here. I'm a few hundred yards away from the house, now.

"SKYLER!" I hear my dad roar.

Lord help me. I've been running as hard as I can, running out of breath and energy all too quickly. My feet pound against the grass and mud like giant drums in my ears.

The woods have ended and now I'm near a lake.

My vision blurs.

All I feel is my heart threatening to jump out of my chest. I can't go anymore. I collapse near the lake shore, completely exhausted.