Far Form Home

Running Away

Running through tree and bushes, mud and creeks and rivers, I kept running. Not looking back, never wanting to look back. Still waiting for the nightmares to end and my emotions to stop taking over and my fears to go away. But even still with me being away form home and away for my so called parents, the night mares wont go away.

My eyes flutter open and I realize I am still in the woods, a take a small stretch i get up, stabling my self on a close by tree and pick up my bag. I open my bag and put my sheet back in my bag and take out my over size hoodie that was honestly 3 times to big but I loves it. I stood at 5 ft. 3 inches and was, as people say, skinny as a rail. I was always skinny but now, I didn't even realize how thin I had gotten. Before I go further let me tell you why I left. It will probley make more since.

I ran away form home at 14 years old, with nothing but a duffel bag, a sheet, my hoodie, and my 2 tank tops and pair of jeans. I didn't always have it bad, when I was younger I had everything, a happy life 2 parents that loved me and would give me the world. Until my dad died, his car was hit by a drunk driver coming home form work and was T boned on the driver side. We was told that the impact killed him instantly. I was 12 when my dad died, it took a toll on my mother harder then it did for me, I loved my dad he was amazing but my mother clearly couldn't live without him. She started drinking and doing drugs and found man within less then a year. His name is Patrick Grose and he is a dirt bag that know and does ever drug known to man. Once she got with him they both got abusive. They both started treating me like a slave. Cooking and cleaning the whole house on my own and when something wasn't done right I paid the price for it. I don't see how my once loving mother could slap me around and let that man of hers Patrick punch and kick on me. I went to school with burses and people started noticing. With what little money I had I went to my local thrift store and bought my now favorite hoodie and tank tops cause that all I could afford.

My lovely mother had giving my clothes away for drugs. why anyone would want clothes for drugs I have no idea. My mother went through the whole house and got rid of almost everything we had. the once nice house we had with family photos hanging on the walls, nice blue sectional couch and 2 Deep red arm chairs, with a side table for each one. A dark oak coffee table. To now having one arm chair with beer stains and small burn holes form cigarettes. The once lovely house we had was now a glorified crack house with a 13 year old slave girl that gets the shit kicked out of her and has random people coming in and out of the house all the time. In one day I could see as many as 8 people, 8 random, strung out, dirty smelly people come in to my once beautiful home, to know a crack house.

I so badly wanted to leave cause everyone kept staring me down, and some of those random people would boss me around in to cleaning up something that wasn't even there. They was so strung out they were seeing things. All I could think was to get out. But how, how was I suppose to get out and not let anyone know, how was I suppose to get my escape form the world. I did the only thing I could do, pack what little I had and wait till everyone was asleep. Its 2A.M. already and i am tired of living like this. I want freedom, i want me old life back. Sitting there waiting slash hiding cause there are one to many people in the house for me and one of them have been staring at me.  That makes me uneasy, i really don't want to get rapped and that's the vibe i am getting.

3a.m. half the people are gone, there's only my mom her boy toy and 3 of his friends. Two are passed out and i can only guess that once they do this next line i can make my get away.

Line down, people sighing.

3:30A.M. i peek beyond the wall and let out a breath i didn't know i was holding. Everyone is out. I don't have much time, it's now or never and now is looking pretty damn good.