Lost Runaways

chapter 1

     Seven years later.

     It was a sunny but windy day. Nothing different from the usual weather in Massachusetts. I sat in my room watching the leaves blow off the trees as I tried to concentrate on my homework, which was not going so well. How could someone write a paper on chemistry when the weather was like this? It was so beautiful. The leaves looked so graceful, but dad said I had to stay inside until I finished. He was so unfair. Daniel was allowed out of the house and he had an essay to write to the only college he was applying to.

      When dad came home with his new wife I didn't know what to say. I was ten. He told me things were going to change. They did. Instead of going to camp with my friends I stayed home to help Dallas when her jewelry company she was trying to start. In the evenings instead of having the television on while we ate, we turned it off and had an hour dinner talking about our day, correction talking about Dallas' day. During school in the morning, Dallas drove us instead of dad, but that soon turned into taking the bus because Dallas was to busy with "costumers", which was code for either spending dad's money shopping with her expensive friends or racking up the phone bill talking with those said expensive friends. When Daniel or I had any sporting, theater, or student council event, Dallas' plans always came first. Dad missed my best lacrosse game where I scored the winning goal in sudden death because Dallas needed to have someone there with her at the dentist because she was scared of the spinning tool to clean her teeth.

     There was another time that Daniel won an award for actually written essay that was being published in the New York Times and the editor was coming to Boston to give it to him, but dad didn't come because Dallas was locked out of the house and she was cold. It broke my brother's heart because he worked so hard to become smart just for dad. One night Dallas had called Daniel stupid and dad never came to his defense. And later that night Daniel heard them talking about him and how he was a lost cause. I don't think I have ever seen my brother so upset.

     Yet there was this time when Dallas decided to go off on a tangent about how she had a customer that would not buy this cheap gold necklace that would match her complexion and I had made a comment. Dallas lashed out finding it insulting when all I said was 'her style didn't appeal to that customer'. I should have known better than to open my mouth, but Dallas threw a fork in the direction of my head. My head swiveled avoiding any impact with the fork though the wall wasn't as fortunate as I. Dad wasn't there to witness it but Danny was. Danny would have thrown a punch if I hadn't intervened.

     Later, I found my brother sitting in a treehouse, the old one we built to escape Dallas' wrath, and his expression was indescribable. He was all choked up because he would have never forgiven himself if Dallas' fork had actually impaled me even though it wasn't his fault; the fault was all mine, Dallas was able to guilt me and everyone around her; that was her gift.

     Nothing good had ever came of my father marrying the two timing, gold digger. My father had a lot of money. When I was younger I heard people talk, and gossip that Dallas was a gold digger, so I went home a searched for the meaning to what gold digger was. When I found out I was sure she was one and that was seven years ago and to this day I still called her that behind her back.

     With time came healing, I have learned to live with, no correction, I have learned to avoid the life my father and Dallas have. I found my passion knowing that my father would never be there to appreciate them. I knew he loved me. I knew he loved my brother. But he loved her more and I would never understand it. So life went on. I had my schedule my time. I had a car and a job to make money. And I would be out of the house in two years with some scholarship most likely even though with my dad's money I could go anywhere.

      It was a normal day, or so I thought. I heard a scream coming from the living room. I didn't know anyone was home. Quickly sliding my phone into my back pocket and jumping off my bed, I jogged downstairs. I probably heard nothing. Maybe Daniel left the television on before he left to go to John's. But then I heard voices. Not voices coming from the television's, but my step mom's and they were not kind words. Next I heard my loving father's voice. He was begging her not do to something. His voice was shaky as he said 'no, no, please no.' I had flashbacks of the movies of how this guy was at gun point by this girl who had wanted revenge on him ever since he broke her heart. She pulled the trigger right as the cops came busting through the door. She got arrested but the man's life was not spared. It was a pretty depressing movie. But what was to come next I was never prepared.