The Runaways

Chapter Eleven

I only walk about seven miles until the sun comes up. And apparently, the cops come out. As I walk down the highway, I see a familiar patrol car driving right toward me, very slowly on the empty road. I put my hands in the air, admitting defeat. The whole process of the trip to the police station, questioning, and car ride home is a blur, but I do remember that I don't say one word about Luke. So many questions are asked that it takes almost all day. I arrive at the dreaded house at around 5pm. My father thanks the officers as they escort me to the door.

"Thank you so much for bringing my baby home! Thank you, thank you!" my torturer fakes as his eyes get watery.

He wraps me in a hug and it's all I can do not to scratch the living

daylight out of his arms. I break away and walk into the house, sitting down on the old couch in the living room. The house is a complete wreck with papers all over the floor and dirty dishes piled high in the sink.

"Thank you so much," he repeats as he shakes the officers' hands and closes the door. My heart pounds wildly as my father's footsteps grow nearer.

"So.. Skyler, what have you been up to lately?" he asks as he stands next me, his attitude completely indifferent.

I smell alcohol on his breath and immediately scoot a foot away from him. "Not much."

"Well, you wanna explain why you haven't been home?" he slurs. His tone is growing angry.

"Dad, calm down, okay? I'm back now, so that's that." I say, trying not to panic. I stand up and brace myself for anything.

"You little rat. You just can't handle responsibilities, can you?" He smacks my left cheek, making me take a step back. My eyes want to water, but I fight the urge.

"For ONCE in your life, could you not be just a waste of space?!" I try to block his punch, but I'm too late. His fist hits my right eye and I stagger backwards.

"Dad! Stop it!" I plead, but he continues ranting.

"You're just like your mother. She was never grateful for anything I did for her!" My right ear gets smacked. All I can hear is ringing.

"Mom was an angel!" I scream at him.

"That doesn't make sense, because you're a little demon!" He grips my head and throws me into the wall.

I hear a thousands cracks as my body slinks down to the floor. My fathers roughly kicks my stomach, once, twice, three times. He then walks to his room, muttering to himself. Every bone in my body is aching. My ears are ringing. My head is spinning, and vision blurring. I don't even have to touch my face to know that my nose is bleeding. Though I don't even care anymore. After shutting my door quietly, I curl into a ball in the middle of the floor. My right eye is swelling up so much that I can't see out of it, and as I reach up to touch my ear, I feel blood. I give up. The sooner I die, the sooner I can get away from this living hell.

Will I ever see Luke before then? I hope he's safe. I know that by my coming home that I did the right thing for him. Please, Luke, don't come after me.

Darkness has taken over outside, leaving my room pitch black. Exhausted and sore, I drift in and out of sleep for a few hours.