It just sorta happened. I didn't plan on it. I just... became a crack head runaway. Yeah, me; seventeen years old, straight A's, Angelica Jones. But, I guess I do have a background reason as to why it happened.
My mother had just committed suicide (due to rants about her never being good enough from my father) and my father's drinking had been at an all time high. It was.... oh, about a week or two after my mother's death that he nearly killed me.
I had come home from school late, because I'd missed the bus and he wouldn't answer his cell. I get home to him yelling at my little sister, Mack, because she didn't bring him a beer when he asked.
"Daddy, you've already had seven since I got home!" I remember Mack yelling as I came in the room.
"You think I care? Bring me the beer!" He yelled back.
The he did it. The main motive to me becoming a crack head runaway. He pulled a gun and shot her three times in the gut. I couldn't even register it in my mind as what had happened. All I remember is that right after that I ran out the door and never looked back.
I ran down First Main Street, across Lee Drive, and into the litte creek beyond there, that Mack and I called Gusher Mountain. I sat on top of the mushy little mud near the creek and cried. I cried for the loss of my mother. My sweet, innocent mother, who had never done anything wrong... besides marry my father. I also cried for Mack. She was only twelve. The last memory I ever have of her to this day is the one of the three fatal bullets piercing her gut. The blood splattering all over our nice carpet; her falling dead, to the ground.
After crying after must have been at least an hour, I decided then and there that I could never go back and face my father. I had to run away. I was seventeen; wherever I would be going I could get a job when I turned eighteen, which was only a month or two away.
I got up, brushed the dust off my pants, and turned around. I studied what little I could see of the neighborhood I had ived in. I took one mental picture of it. Then I turned on my heel, stared dead ahead, and walked down the side of Gusher Mountain right next to the creek. I had no idea where it was taking me...
This is MY story.
