Runaway, chapter 1
Was all I had going for me was Green Day and running away?! Obviously....I just couldn't deal with this anymore. And for the third time today, I was being yelled at.
"Leaving your crap everywhere!" my Dad shouted hoarsely at me. " I hate you so much!"
I could feel the tears rapidly burning in my eyes till I could do nothing but let them fall helplessly into my lap where they made dark patches in my jeans. I slumped down at the kitchen table.
"Don't start the f*** water works with me!" my Dad yelled suddenly. He marched over to me and grabbed my arm. I was 16, my name was Emily Cedar and I lived with my Father. Obviously. But I loathed him. My Mum died when I was 5, right in front of me. She had a really rare cancer, just my luck wasn't it? My Father beat me, ever since I was 6, he just couldn't deal with the death of my Mum.
My Dad grasped my ear with his free hand and smashed my head against the wall. The Pain was searing into my skull, and my eyes watered due to pain.
"That'll teach you to obey me in the future!" he raged, spitting in my face. And the weird thing is, I'm used to it. But I weren't obeying him this time. I was leaving. He, meanwhile, went into the kitchen and pulled a piece of chicken out from the fridge and sprinkled it in salt before sticking it in his mouth. My stomach rumbled. I hardly got anything to eat, just a small dinner. I sprinted up the stairs and into my bedroom which was small, dark and dank. It had plain walls and a plain duvet set. I also had a small CD Player that my Dad had no clue about, I hid it under my bed, and my only CD. Green Day's " American Idiot". It was my favourite CD, not that I had any others. I loved it so much, and my favourite was " Jesus of Surburbia". Its about kids running away in the american society, and thats exactly what I'm doing. I live in America, California. And I'm in complete love with the lead singer. I know his name is Billie Joe, Mike and Tre but I've only seen 3 pictures of them and that was when we was in I.T once and I saw a few pictures...but that was over a year ago! I knew every single word to every single song. If you was wondering how I learnt the words to it, I either turned it on when my Dad was out, or when he was downstairs, I turned it down, almost to zero. I did got to school, and I liked it. It was a way to get away from the house and my Dad.
Even though I had hardly any friends at all, I just wanted to be left alone. I had absoluetely no good grades, I couldn't revise, I had hardly any stationery, I had no money, and my Dad certainly wouldn't buy any for me. So I usually failed in tests and exams. I couldn't go over to any classmates houses as my Dad wouldn;t let me, and if he did he'd pull a gas can. Not that I particurly wanted to go to any people's houses. I was always the one who felt sorry for....Damn right.
I stuffed my CD in my bag which I'd had for about ten years. Only one thing made me happy - Green Day. I hardly heard any other music, I had no radio. I packed a few clothes, including my favourite T-shirt where I had wrote " I love Green Day" on it in black marker. I had light blonde hair and starry blue eyes. I slipped my trainers on which had a slightly small hole in the left one. I crept downstairs slowly and peeked my head in the doorway...My Dad was in the kitchen, mumbling something and swigging down a bottle of beer. Typical. I was about to run down the hall when soemthing caught my eye. A photoframe. My mum was wrapping her arms around me while I was on a swing, my Dad just in sight in the background, grinning. I hadn't seen him grin like that for an age. My muj was smiling in the picture, and me laughing with glee in a pink anorak.
What ever happened to those times?
My Dad should be supporting me, not abusing me. I grabbed the photoframe and hurried down the hall, shoving it in my bag while I went. I thrust the door open and a breath of fresh wind swept past me. I was free. A smile spread across my face and the sun beamed down on me with realisation. Why did I not leave before today?!
I mean, I couldn't of run away when I was younger, but now I was legally a adult. I pulled the little front gate openand began heading down the street. It wasn't long before my Father was calling my name angrily. I spun around. He was striding towards me, the beer bottle in his hand.
"Where the f*** do you think you are going?" he enquired dangerously, trying to keep his temper under control. He couldn't lose it in front of the whole street, someone could be looking out their window...
"Getting the f*** away from you," I said coolly, smirking. It was the first time I had answered him back in what seemed like years. He raised the bottle, but for the first time I wasn't scared.
"Gonna do it in the middle of the street, Jeff?!" I whispered, laughing. I had called him by his name. He lowered the bottle to his side.
"Your getting back in that house," he ordered, his teeth clenched. " If its the last thing I do. You always do what I say."
"Not this time," I whispered and I turned and ran. I couldn't help laughing. I rand own a small alleyway, into the next street, and into another, when I started to slow down. It was getting dark, the horizon was pink, so I decided to head into the pub, to ask them if they knew any cheap motles around, when I bumped into someone.
"I'm so sorry!" I apologised.
"Me too....Sorry," the guy said, and he removed his sunglasses and I stared back into those beautiful emerald green eyes I hadn't seen for over a year, and this is real life....
"Leaving your crap everywhere!" my Dad shouted hoarsely at me. " I hate you so much!"
I could feel the tears rapidly burning in my eyes till I could do nothing but let them fall helplessly into my lap where they made dark patches in my jeans. I slumped down at the kitchen table.
"Don't start the f*** water works with me!" my Dad yelled suddenly. He marched over to me and grabbed my arm. I was 16, my name was Emily Cedar and I lived with my Father. Obviously. But I loathed him. My Mum died when I was 5, right in front of me. She had a really rare cancer, just my luck wasn't it? My Father beat me, ever since I was 6, he just couldn't deal with the death of my Mum.
My Dad grasped my ear with his free hand and smashed my head against the wall. The Pain was searing into my skull, and my eyes watered due to pain.
"That'll teach you to obey me in the future!" he raged, spitting in my face. And the weird thing is, I'm used to it. But I weren't obeying him this time. I was leaving. He, meanwhile, went into the kitchen and pulled a piece of chicken out from the fridge and sprinkled it in salt before sticking it in his mouth. My stomach rumbled. I hardly got anything to eat, just a small dinner. I sprinted up the stairs and into my bedroom which was small, dark and dank. It had plain walls and a plain duvet set. I also had a small CD Player that my Dad had no clue about, I hid it under my bed, and my only CD. Green Day's " American Idiot". It was my favourite CD, not that I had any others. I loved it so much, and my favourite was " Jesus of Surburbia". Its about kids running away in the american society, and thats exactly what I'm doing. I live in America, California. And I'm in complete love with the lead singer. I know his name is Billie Joe, Mike and Tre but I've only seen 3 pictures of them and that was when we was in I.T once and I saw a few pictures...but that was over a year ago! I knew every single word to every single song. If you was wondering how I learnt the words to it, I either turned it on when my Dad was out, or when he was downstairs, I turned it down, almost to zero. I did got to school, and I liked it. It was a way to get away from the house and my Dad.
Even though I had hardly any friends at all, I just wanted to be left alone. I had absoluetely no good grades, I couldn't revise, I had hardly any stationery, I had no money, and my Dad certainly wouldn't buy any for me. So I usually failed in tests and exams. I couldn't go over to any classmates houses as my Dad wouldn;t let me, and if he did he'd pull a gas can. Not that I particurly wanted to go to any people's houses. I was always the one who felt sorry for....Damn right.
I stuffed my CD in my bag which I'd had for about ten years. Only one thing made me happy - Green Day. I hardly heard any other music, I had no radio. I packed a few clothes, including my favourite T-shirt where I had wrote " I love Green Day" on it in black marker. I had light blonde hair and starry blue eyes. I slipped my trainers on which had a slightly small hole in the left one. I crept downstairs slowly and peeked my head in the doorway...My Dad was in the kitchen, mumbling something and swigging down a bottle of beer. Typical. I was about to run down the hall when soemthing caught my eye. A photoframe. My mum was wrapping her arms around me while I was on a swing, my Dad just in sight in the background, grinning. I hadn't seen him grin like that for an age. My muj was smiling in the picture, and me laughing with glee in a pink anorak.
What ever happened to those times?
My Dad should be supporting me, not abusing me. I grabbed the photoframe and hurried down the hall, shoving it in my bag while I went. I thrust the door open and a breath of fresh wind swept past me. I was free. A smile spread across my face and the sun beamed down on me with realisation. Why did I not leave before today?!
I mean, I couldn't of run away when I was younger, but now I was legally a adult. I pulled the little front gate openand began heading down the street. It wasn't long before my Father was calling my name angrily. I spun around. He was striding towards me, the beer bottle in his hand.
"Where the f*** do you think you are going?" he enquired dangerously, trying to keep his temper under control. He couldn't lose it in front of the whole street, someone could be looking out their window...
"Getting the f*** away from you," I said coolly, smirking. It was the first time I had answered him back in what seemed like years. He raised the bottle, but for the first time I wasn't scared.
"Gonna do it in the middle of the street, Jeff?!" I whispered, laughing. I had called him by his name. He lowered the bottle to his side.
"Your getting back in that house," he ordered, his teeth clenched. " If its the last thing I do. You always do what I say."
"Not this time," I whispered and I turned and ran. I couldn't help laughing. I rand own a small alleyway, into the next street, and into another, when I started to slow down. It was getting dark, the horizon was pink, so I decided to head into the pub, to ask them if they knew any cheap motles around, when I bumped into someone.
"I'm so sorry!" I apologised.
"Me too....Sorry," the guy said, and he removed his sunglasses and I stared back into those beautiful emerald green eyes I hadn't seen for over a year, and this is real life....
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