Hey! This is my first time posting an actual story on here, so tell me what you think! Be honest, and dont hold back! if you like it, tell me. If you hate it, tell me. and tell why! okay, so enjoy! :)
"Noah, come on! I told mom we'd be home before midnight!" I said to my little brother as we walked along our own secret path to our house I made when I was 7. It was always our escape when Dad got mad. During the day, it was always beautifully lit as the sunlight shined through the branches, dancing with the wind. But now there was no sun. It was pitch black. 'Hopefully mom didn't get too badly hurt this time' I thought.
As I thought this, I saw them. The blinding flashes of white, red, and blue. The ear shattering screeching of sirens got louder as I grabbed Noah's hand and began to run.
"No, no, no, no, NO, NO!!" I screamed as I ran into the front door to see my mom on one of those stretcher things. There was blood splattered all over the walls, all surrounding her unconscious body. "Mom," Noah, who I was still dragging by the hand, and I screamed at the same time.
Before I could mutter another word, a rough hand pulled me by the arm outside onto the lawn. "Excuse me, miss, is Mrs. uh..." he looked down to a paper he was holding in his other hand he was not holding me with, "is Mrs. Raker your mom?" The policeman asked.
I gave the man my best glare and replied coldly, "No, I just randomly burst through people's doors and scream 'mom!'. Yes, she's my freaking mom, is she okay?" The officer shifted his gaze from mine to the ground.
"What's wrong with her? Is she going to be okay?" My brother spoke for the first time since this whole thing happened. I snapped my head to him, and threw my arms around him. He was silently crying into my shirt. It was then that I realized I was crying, too.
"Sweetie, mommy's going to a place where she doesn't have to worry about daddy hurting her. Neither will we." I looked up to the police officer who nodded his head in reassurance. "We'll be safe now in a new home." I don't know how long we stayed like that, hugging each other while drenching each other in our tears.
Finally someone pulled me away from Noah. "I'm sorry, miss, but we have to ask you some questions." I nodded weakly. "Okay, what is your name?"
"Faith Raker and my brother is Noah Raker."
"How old are you, Faith?"
"15. And my brother is 8."
The questions continued like that until I felt like they knew my whole life story. A caseworker from Child Protection Services told me and Noah to pack our things in suitcases they had given us.
Throughout this whole time, I never once saw my dad. Not even going into a police car. 'They must have gotten him before we got here' I thought to myself as I packed the last of my stuff. I mentally checked off all the things I needed as I went through my bag one last time.
I left the huge, stuffed bag on my bed as I went to go check on Noah. Just as I thought, he was sitting on the bench seat that looked onto the lawn we had built for him. Every time he was scared or afraid, that is where he would retreat. We liked to call it his 'thinking bench'.
I sat down and pulled him into my lap. "Hey" I mumbled into his ear. He looked up at me and I wiped away the stray tears that had escaped his water-filled eyes. "Hey," I repeated, "it's going to be okay. We're going to be okay."
"Faith, you're going to be with me at our new house, right?"
"Always."
"Promise?"
"Promise."
