Gone pt 2

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The door fleed open as the day broke in. I look down with sorrow to see it was just my father. My father. Yes, he was a loud man. He always spoke his mind. I could never figure out whether he was drunk or if he's in a bad mood. Most of the time it's both. He came in with a white stained shirt and some ripped black jeans. His shoes worn down to the last shoelace. Before I could stand up to ignore his rage, he grabbed me from behind and grabbed my shirt collar. As he pulled me over the filthy couch, I tried to hold back my screams and tears, but they all rushed out. It was way out of my control now. However, it's not the first time.
"Little rat! You haven't gotten the things I asked for on the list!" he proclaimed. I tried pointing to the cabinet with all of it, but he only put it behind me, putting more and more pressure. He squeezed my arms and neck like I was a lemon. I gasped and tried to get a word out, but he punched me in my abdomen making me yell in pain. He then threw me in my room, leaving me weak and hopeless. I curled up in a ball, letting the emotions run free. There's nothing left. My life sucks. I thought repeatedly. Kota. I cried. KOTA!
The next morning, nothing was healed. My life wasn't going to be any better. What should I do with my life? There's nothing I can do. All that was racing through my head was Dakota. I lifted up my head from the only pillow I had from a mattress that was laying on this gray carpet with many stains. I could say it could be worse. But it'll never get better. As I sat crissed crossed with my blanket on the floor, it grew eerie. Not having Kota is sure different. It's killing me. I tried to forget about it, but it popped in my head like popping popcorn. I didn't want to sight my father, so I dressed and raced out through the window, without any shoes.
Having both feet out the window now felt so devine. The grass was almost like silk. I took in the aroma of freshly cut grass and the smell of dirt and stood there with my eyes closed for a moment. I look back and see I left the window open. I quickly go back to shut it with relief that no one has caught me. Facing the window, I took in a deep breath and turned around, but I was startled.
"Wow, you actually live here?" Asked a voice of a young girl. Panting on the inside, I examined her with my eyes still wide from her appearance. I've never seen anyone like her. "What's your problem? Never seen a girl before?" I looked down slowly to see cuts and scars on her shins and thighs. Then, I felt a faint hit on my head. "Don't you have any manners, boy?" Boy? "I-I'm sorry. I didn't--" I was interupted when she sighed loudly. I stopped and we were quiet for a few moments until she broke the silence with a weird question. "Hmm. Do you know Johanna?" "Johanna? I'm afriad not. Sorry." I said looking away at a pile of leaves. She leaned in closer and squinted her big hazel eyes. "You're not lying, are you?" She asked as she puckered her bottom lip. "Like I said, I don't know. If you'll be kind and leave I'd appreciate it. I've got somewhere to go." My palms started slightly sweating because I got her interested and thats the last thing I needed. She backed her head away, then her body. She crossed her arms and then tapped her chin and looked up with a smirk.
"Going somewhere? Can I come?" Her face, it was almost.. like a dream. What is this feeling I had? Why do I feel so happy now? I felt my heart race and i didn't hesitate to say YES. Only seconds later is when I snapped out of it and regretted it. Where I was heading is very sacred to me. It's too personal for her to come. "Wow, that was easy. So whe--" "Nevermind, you can't come." I heard her growl a little. I looked up and she was red as a cherry tomato. Her hands shaking and he eyes low staring at me. "N-nobody tells Tina no. No one!" She ran into me and shoved me into the ground, pinning me down. My eyes widened and then my mouth was soon filled with dirt. Her attack was so strong, I didn't even know if she was human. She dug her elbow into my back and yelled bad words and called me out. But not by my real name. She called me Little Rat, mostly and continuously punched my back and twisted my wrist.

By The Brown GrassWhere stories live. Discover now