7- Caitlins POV

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I am panicking. A gang, heading towards me. I grab my suitcase and sling my backpack on, and contemplate what I should do.

Option 1: run for it
Or
Option 2: run to the house across for me and ask for help.

So far, option two is what I am thinking.

I get up and see the gang heading towards me, closer than ever. It's now or never. So I run straight for the building across from me and drop my stuff. I regain my breath and frantically ring the doorbell. No answer. Oh no.

I need to make my stand. The thoughts. The suicide thoughts. They decided to come back. Now of all times. I close my eyes, waiting for the punches.

I don't care if I die. I hate my father, my mother, the kids at my school, Holden. My life. I hate my fudging life.
But I can't give up. I'm fighting for a new life; a life where I can change myself.

I can change myself. I can change myself and become whoever I want. I can be me. And I want this to happen so much.

I open my eyes.

If the wind takes me, I will be content. I will become whatever I want to be. I have the power. I can do it.

They are almost upon me. I go to meet them. They surround me. But there's only four of them.

A man with a Mohawk and tons of peircings, the leader, I think; speaks.

"Now, what business does a pretty lady like you doin out here so early?" He asks.

"Just traveling," I respond lightly.

"Where's your airplane? Your car? Your boyfriend?" He asks.

I don't know what to say. Don't stutter, rule number one is to never stutter. I stutter. "Um.... I don't have enough money to buy a plane ticket... My um... My dad took my car... And I... Um.... My boyfriend left me." I respond.

"Oh, well, where you heading?" He politely asks.

"Um... Phoenix. I have family there." I respond.

Mohawk looks at his friends and they crack their knuckles and roll their necks. "So you say your boyfriend left you?" He asks.

"Yeah," I say.

"Well then, looks like we have some easy prey today, right men?" He responds, and I gulp.

"You wouldn't-" Before I can finish my sentence, I am tackled to the ground.

"You should be nicer to Dane, my son." He responds, and I receive a blow to the arm. I scream out in pain.

"Stop!" I scream, trying to release myself from their grasp, but to no avail. "Please!" Dane's father kicks me.

"You should know better, you stupid worthless piece of trash," he responds, kicking me in the stomach.

I fight back, struggling under the iron grip of his sidekick. I manage to wriggle out of his grasp, and stand up. I gasp for air.

"Want a little 1v1?" He asks before punching me in the gut. "Your father wants to see you."

I swing and feel my hand connect with something. His jaw. I smile, but am tackles from behind. His minions. They force me to the ground and I can't breathe. I can't breathe. I curl into a ball and absorb all the pain, like I remember. Thanks for the tips, dad.

Just as I was about to black out,
I saw somebody come out of the house and yell at the four men, and managed to land a punch.

And then I lost sense of all reality.

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