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I ran into him.

"Watch where your going, bitch," he said to me.

I was always told to stay way from him. I was told he is a drug addict and leader of the very feared gang here, I never knew or seen him, but I know his name. Zander Wallis.

"Not my fault that you don't know where you are, jackass," I said to him, not looking at him, but at the parking lot.

I saw my dad's car slowly heading towards the Skate park parking lot.

I didn't think twice on what my next move was. I bend down to pick up my board and started running into the woods in one swift move.

I knew that if dad saw me here, he would kill me. And not in the metaphorically.

"Where are you going?!" That same guy yelled at me, trying to catch up.

"Anywhere away from him," I said pining to my dad's car.

"Why?"

"You don't need to know."

"But I want to,"

"What about that gang of yours, bad boy?" This time I finally took a good look at him. He looks like a super model, not someone on drugs. He has dark brown hair that lightens on the tips, dark green eyes, tan skin, and a body of an athlete.

He wore a grey tee shirt with a black leather jacket, dark blue jeans, black combat boots, and an all black baseball hat.

"They know what to do," he shrugged it off like it was no big deal.

"I was told to say away from you, like you were the plague," I told him, trying to get out of it. I was just hoping to get out of here so dad wouldn't find me.

I can tell he felt my anxiety. "I was told the same thing about you, Tomboy. I know a spot away from here if you would like to go there," he offered.

"Anything away from here, is fine by me."

"Where are you, you little bitch! I know your here!" I heard my dad yell.

"Well, go on. Lead the way," I tell him:

We started to walk. Then once he noticed that I was keeping up just fine, we started to run.

It took us about half an hour to get where ever he was taking me. Right now, I was just hoping he wouldn't kill me or worse.

"Zander," he said as we stopped, holding put a hand for me to shake.

"I know." I didn't take the offer to shake his hand. He must of realized that because he took his hand away.

"So, why did you need an escape plan?" He asked.

"My dad was coming. You heard him," I told him, not sure if I should tell him everything.

"The guy that yelled 'Where are you, you little bitch. I know your here?'" He asked, quoting my dad.

"Yeah. That guy."

"Why did he say that?"

"Digging into somewhere that could hurt you, now are we?" I asked.

"What do you mean?"

I looked at my nails, picking at them as I leaned against a tree. "I don't really know you. Why should I tell you my life story?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe it's the fact that something bad could happen in the middle of the woods where no one goes," he said.

"Sketchy," I tisked. "But you don't know what I'm capable of."

"You don't know that about me either."

"But like I said before, your just digging your nose in a spot that will only get you hurt."

"How do you know that?"

"Everyone gets hurt. Physically, mentally, or emotionally. Sometimes all three. Trust me. It's not a pretty tale to tell."

"Try me."

"My dad," I paused.

"What about him?"

"He's a drunk."

"And?" He pressed.

I looked up at him. This time, instead of my joking face that I normally have on was replaced with a dead serious face. "He is a drunk who abuses his own flesh and blood. Me, to be precise. Not my brother or mother, me. His only daughter. But, I'm not the daughter he wanted."

I could tell that he is speechless, so I continued. "I act more like a son that a daughter. See this skateboard?" I held my board up. "It almost cost my life to get. My brother got ten of these for his birthday. Not to mention that they gave me like twenty pink dresses for my birthday. It was like a punch in the face that day."

"I'm sure it wasn't that bad"

I rolled my eyes at his stupidity. "In case you didn't notice, I don't wear dresses, I have my dad ready to rip my head off for just going to the skatepark, and basically trying to be myself and not get hurt doing so."

"Like I said it could be worse."

"Well, then. What's your story, bad boy?" I toon a seat on the ground, knowing that this is going to take a while.

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