May 19th Friday
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 the same 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. No 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. Their hands still proceed towards his pants pocket. Fingers graze the brown leather wallet.
“Sweetie?” a soft voice breaks the silence, and my heart drops straight to my stomach. “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. He's not half the man my dad was. 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 features 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 bittersweet smile and drop my hand. I turn towards the door. I can hear her silenced 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 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 pound 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 even going? I pull out my phone and look at the website. 5 am bus: last stop Las Vegas
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Words: 1187
Nah wattpad had a fucking aneurysm letting me write this.
DU LIEST GERADE
late nights {Boris Pavlikovsky}
Fanfiction"You threw me off a roof.." - reader "Boris, you're drunk." His response sent a small pain through my chest. - theo "My mother fell out a window and died," he said extremely nonchalantly. I could feel my jaw drop. - boris ...
