Broken Home

Prologue

A Girl Can Dream

There it goes again, the familiar bright flash followed by the roaring crash of thunder that comes with this storm. As I lay on my bed, I realise how strange it is that the weather can so easily reflect your mood. 

There goes the noise again, but this time it wasn't the thunderstorm, it was another now familiar sound; the yelling from the fighting going on downstairs. 

As another flash of lightning hits, I realise how tired I truly am. Tired of listening to my parents fight, tired of being physically and mentally abused, and tired of pretending that everything is okay. I just want to be happy again.

"I've had enough." I say angrily to no one in particular, as I climb off my bed and start stuffing a few of my things into a bag. When I open my bedroom door the full force of the fight downstairs hits me smack in the face. Man, they're really going at it this time, I think to myself as I walk down the hall. I stop at the door of my brother's bedroom, everything neat and tidy. All of his belongings are where he left them, his bed perfectly made by my mum as if she thinks he's going to come home one day. My chest tightens and tears fill my eyes as I think of my brother and the freak accident that took him away from us. 

If only he were still here. Maybe everything would still be okay.

I blink away the tears and walk into my 'parents' room - I say 'parents' because it's supposed to be both their room, but mum has been sleeping in the spare room on the second floor ever since the fighting started, so now it's more like dad's room – and flick the light on. I walk over to the bedside table and pick up his wallet, opening it and scanning it for his credit card. If I want to get away from here, I'm going to need some cash.

Once I find his card, I pull it out, along with the notes stashed in the money compartment. I then put the wallet back exactly as it was and leave the room, shoving the card and cash into my own wallet.

As I make my way down the stairs to the second floor of our typical 'perfect family' three-story house, I realise I can no longer hear any yelling. I stop in my tracks and strain my ears for something, but all I can hear is the sound of the rain pouring down outside. I slowly make my way down the stairs, scared that any sudden movement could set them off again. As I take the final step onto the second floor landing, I look over the railing and scan the lounge room below. Nothing.

I cautiously take a step back just before my father comes storming up the stairs, scratch marks across his cheek and blood tricking down. 

"Get out of my way." He demands as he pushes past me so roughly I fall back onto the railing, whacking my wrist hard on the metal bars. Glaring daggers at the back of his head I stand up straight and rub my now throbbing wrist. I am so sick of being treated like this! I scream in my head as tears threaten to spill yet again. This only makes me more determined to leave.

After checking over the railings once again for my mother, I make my way towards the spare room. Firstly I just casually walk past it and looking in to make sure she hasn't already come upstairs, but lucky for me no one is in there. I quickly run back in there and scan the room for my mother's purse. Just as a big flash of lightning lights up the room, I see it lying on the bed. Walking over I grab the cash out while looking for her credit card, which is extremely difficult as she has a million and one cards for things only God knows what for. After pulling out and putting back in different cards I finally find the one I'm looking for. I grab it and chuck her purse back onto the bed, putting her card and cash in my wallet as well.

I know I'm probably a terrible child for stealing my parent's money, but honestly I could care less at this point in time. I'll deal with the guilt later.

Quickly running out of the room I run down the stairs, bag hauled on my shoulder and walk through the lounge room, just as my father makes his way down stairs again, the blood gone from the side of his face. I see my mother in the kitchen leaning with her hands on the bench, staring at the floor. I make my way to the door and pull it open.

"Where are you going?" My father asks roughly, causing me to abruptly stop in the doorway.

"Out." I reply shortly, not turning to look at my parents.

"At least tell me when you're gonna be back."

"I'm not coming back." I state, walking out the door and firmly closing it behind me. I stand on the front porch for a short while, half expecting my parents to come out and beg me to stay. But alas, instead of them coming out, they go back to fighting, this time about who caused me to leave.

"A girl can dream." I shrug to myself, making my way down the porch steps. I run through the rain and hop in my car, chucking my bag onto the passenger seat beside me. Taking a deep breath, I take off down the dark street and find myself going West. I'm not exactly sure where I'm heading, I just know I have to get away from here.

And fast.

A/N: Hello!

So firstly I just want to say that I'm going to try my hardest to update frequently with not only this story but 'How to Save a Life' too. I also have another book coming at you soon!  Secondly, I hope you enjoyed this prologue and that you're interested enough to continue reading. Let me know what you think! :) 

Don't forget to vote, comment and follow!

~Larissa :) xx