Save Me // H.S

4: flying the nest

Not a single sound echoed through the long narrow halls of a home that always seemed to be full of life and noise. As I walked from room to room, with my feet stomping to a beat of an untamed drum my eyes looked out for any signs of familiar faces, but none appeared. As I neared the stairs, I turned back and blinked my eyes open and shut a few times. Each time the sound of their action became louder and everything else around me became blurred. This was it and every step closer I became to mothers room, a reel of flashbacks played back through my mind.

 

As I shut my eyes I saw my four year old self; adorned in a pink poofy dress, with sequence lining the top and my little pink tennis shoes that I forced my mother to put me in just barely peaked through the dresses bottom. Maybe that was the domino that started the fall, maybe forcing her to put me in beat up old tennis shoes was the reason for my abuse.

 

Never the less my eyes opened up again and the fabrication of the world I once so much enjoyed as a little girl was gone and this was the reality I was living in.

 

Reaching the doorknob to mothers room, my stomach churned inside my body and everything I had manage to scrounge up in the past week was beginning to rise up into my throat. Forcefully pushing it back down, my hand shakily reached for the door and came into contact with the gold cooling metal. As it turned I used my right hand to push it all the way open. Stepping into my mothers room, I fell back onto the door, slamming it shut and sending a loud roar gusling through the halls. Thankful no one was home I forced myself to move forward.

 

My eyes moved from one end of the room to the other, exploring the contents and just hoping they’d seek what I was trying to find. An eternity of looking I seemed to of discovered a box tucked away in a small nook next to my mothers side of the bed. Each step I took seemed like a mile, but I made the journey. My hands frisking the box until the clasp gave way and opened. Not caring about what was contained in the jewelry boxed I dumped all of its contents into my bag. My bag, that contained all of my life since the third grade; ever since I was turned into the house slave.

 

As I went to set the jewelry box back down, exactly where I had found it, a photo fell out. As it spiraled to the floor, my hand went to reach for it. Examining the piece of crinkled paper, I nearly smiled, as I saw a perfect family etched into the photo. Starting from the left was my mother; her hair down and flowing as her white pearly teeth shined. If you stared at her now you’d notice the wrinkles starting to trace into her skin and her teeth a color of marmalade. She had changed, just like me I guess. Continuing left my father stood, straight and tall almost as if he were going into war. His hair combed back and his shirt freshly pressed. In the next row stood me, then my sister and eldest of us all my brother. Oh how I despised of them both; how each time mother laid a single finger on me they’d watch and knicker to themselves. At the worst of times they’d join in and make the pain ever more unbearable.

 

I crumpled up the picture and threw it into my bag as well; to keep as a sick reminder of my past. I don’t know why I didn’t just throw it away, maybe it was my way of having to remind myself that this is real and everything wasn’t just some dream.  How I would love to wake up in a big bed, with warm covers surrounding my entirety with a nice cooked meal waiting for me. If it wasn’t too much to ask for maybe a mother and father who loved me and treated me with respect and gave me the love I very much craved. A dream is a dream, I keep it close to my heart locked away, never to fade even though I know it will never come true.

 

As I pondered the little dream I had my feet carry me to the back door, where I was to escape to my new life.

 

As I pulled away the screen door, the cool night breeze ran across my skin, leaving goosebumps on every inch of my body. Running my left hand across my right arm I felt the straps of my tattered book bag containing my escape tug at my shoulders. My plan ran across my mind as I stepped out into the world.

 

I would walk out to the end of state lines and once I got there I would pawn away mothers small fortune and start a new life. A good life, a life without abuse.

 

I didn’t know if I could do it, but I would give it my all. I knew if I couldn’t make it I would be back in a body bag, because there would be no way you’d bring me back to this place alive.

A/N

I am very sorry for how long this update took, there is really nothing I can say that can make up for the amount of time it took. But I have grown in my writing abilities since the last update and I think it's more enjoyable. Might just be my opinion, but I am very much in love with the story and how it's going so far. When I saw 16k reads I thought I was tripping balls, big black balls. That's unbelievable and makes me want to write. Your support and comments and votes and all that good stuff makes it so much more rewarding to me. I love each and everyone of you so much you don't even know. 

I would love it if you could leave comments and vote so I know your there, if not it's okay I just want to be able to thank each and everyone one of you for the support and love you give me and to hopefully grow so I can have a bigger family that I love and support as well. 

So I'm babbling, but I will update again hopefully real soon depending on the feedback and free time I'm allotted. Love you guys, have a wonderful day/night.