oh, miss ruby

1

[AN: okay so this is my very first story i've written and felt comfortable to publish, so pleeeeease bare with me on this ! the first couple chapters might me rough since i'm just getting my ideas down, but anyways thanks for reading:)
means a lot xx ]

|ruby p.o.v|

"ruby stop! get back here this instant"
my mother yells at me
i continue to ignore her calls and storm out the door. my backpack slung over my shoulder and a wad of emergency cash in my hand. this isn't the first time i've run away. i have to get out of this house. i can't take it anymore. don't get me wrong, i love my parents, but they don't understand. it's suffocating being in that house, they have my whole future planned out. but i don't even see a future for myself. not if i do what i'm "destined to be"

my parents, or more like my dad; is trying to send me to this fancy college somewhere i can't even pronounce. she wants me to become a lawyer like him, but i can't spend the rest of my life dealing with other people's problems. i know that seems like a big first world issue, which i'm not going to lie it is. but it's my entire future, my happiness, and my sanity could be thrown out the window if i go. i want to study art, and create music. music and art are the only thing that makes sense for me. when i create art, or write a new song, nobody can tell me it's wrong because i created it. it's mine. i just wish someone would understand that, not think that i'm some "snobby rich bitch who doesn't appreciate what's being handed to me" as my father would say.

i don't know where i'm going, or how long i've been walking. it's early december in ohio, and the temperature is absolutely freezing - especially when you're only in a sweater and some tights. see the thing about running away, is all i can focus on is getting out , not how ... or what i'm going to pack.
somehow, i manage to find an old motel. you know those motels you see in horror movies? yah, this was exactly like one of those. but i don't have much money with me to start being picky, so this will do for a couple days.
"one room please, the cheapest you have" i say to the man at the counter.
"anything for you darling" he smirks at me, looking me up and down.
i shoot him the death stare, "thanks" i take the key from him. as i walk away i can feel his eyes glued to my back. men can be pigs.
room 125, my room key reads. i find the sign that points to the right hallway. walking to my room, i notice how beaten down this place really is. the red faded carpet is peeling at the edges, the dark stains appear like they haven't even been washed, the smell of pot coming from several rooms, the dingy lights keep flickering. how is this place is even still running.

125. finally. i go to slide they key in the slot, when i hear quiet whimpers echoing the hallway. someone's crying, it sounds so, empty? like someone's shedding the last bit of hope they have left, almost as if there's nothing left in them to hold onto. realizing i'm standing outside my room listening to someone cry, i push the door open hoping no one saw me. a sudden wave of sadness and exhaustion wash over me, i throw my bag onto the bed, looking at the faded and stained white sheets, sighing in disgust. i step out of my black Vans and walk over to the bathroom. looking over my reflection in the mirror, my dark red hair is a tangled mess, my red All Time Low sweater and black tights don't seem appealing anymore. i strip out of my clothes and pull out an oversized shirt and a grey pair of shorts out of my bag. i throw those on, brush my hair down, brush my teeth and head to bed. i didn't realize how tired i was until i hit my head on the pillow.