Running To My Stranger

Running To My Stranger- Chapter 2

Chapter 2

As I enter my dreaded home, I feel the anger hanging around in the air. Sarah, in her later thirties, screaming with her blonde hair flying in all directions, her brown large eyes flaring at her beloved Michael. Michael is one scary man. He use to be a professional wrestler. Muscles everywhere, with black shaved hair, and small brown eyes. Him in a ripped singlet, and cargo shorts, and Sarah in a dress showing off her ‘natural’ breast.
‘Veronica! Where the hell have you been? I thought I had told you to make dinner for us, you ungrateful piece of sh*t. And what happened to picking up my dry cleaning today?’ Sarah yells at me. Her face turning red with anger, her eyes popping out of her head. 
‘I picked your clothes up today, and dinner is on the stove. If only you would look, then maybe you could see the obvious.’ I spat back at her. Suddenly I feel a pierce of pain on my right cheek. I turn to see Michael holding out his hand, with an evil grin. 
‘You don’t ever speak to Sarah or me like that. You hear me you disgusting mutt.’ 
And that is when the beating starts. I can feel both of them kicking my stomach, I can feel the fresh bruises burning more, my recently broken ribs cracking a bit, and new cuts seeping. I can feel the blood dripping down the sides of my body. 
I bite my tongue, so I don’t scream. I can’t scream, I can’t show them how much it hurts.  
Sarah finally had enough of hurting me, and left, to go get some more wine. 
‘Now Veronica, tell me you love me. And I am 10 times better than your dead grease of a father’
All I did was spit into his face. He looked taken back for a bit, then started smashing my head onto the ground, I started to feel abit dizzy. i could feel the blood rushing in my  body, and my head was pounding. but i gritted my teeth.  He was holding my hands down and punching me in the stomach, some more times in the face. 
He finally got off of me and stalked off to the kitchen. Probably going to shove his face again while I’m still just lying there. I could taste the metallic flavour of my own blood in my mouth. The pain was excruciating. But my mind was somewhere else. This was the first time in months Michael or even Sarah had mentioned my father. And that is how I realised. I didn’t have to take their cr*p anymore. I didn’t have to get beaten by these people. I didn’t have to be bossed around, and treated like a piece of dirt. I could have my own life. And all I have to do is run.. 
I slowly stand up. Clutching onto my ribs. Ignoring the pain, I walk up to the basement where all my things are kept. I quickly grab my back pack, put all my clothes in it, so really I put in my two pairs of underpants, a pair of socks, shorts, and one extra t-shirts seeing as I am wearing my jumper and jeans. And grab the money I had been saving up. Quietly I grab some food from the kitchen. Knowingly I mess up their dinner. Grab my bag. And run. Away from my troubles. Away from my nightmare. Towards the only happy place I know of. The beach house my dad and I use to visit when I was younger, in Queensland. Australia’s sunshine capital. 

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Hey guys, i know this is really short and bad and all. But im in a rush. And i wont be able to update again until Saturday.

Comment, Fan, Vote.

xashlee