Finding my something.

"Leave child!" My step mother bellows as she slaps me across the face once more. I grab my blade and sweater as I run out the door. It was raining outside. As i ran down the steps that lead to my father's big and beautiful home, I fall. I stumble a bit while trying to get back up. Soon I regain my balance and continue to trudge through to heavy pelting of rain drops all around.

I run and run and run. All I could think to do was run. To run and never go back. She didn't appreciate me. I am entitled to my father's fortune and she doesn't even care. My mother and father divorced when i was two. When I was three my mother died in a car accident, unmarried. I lived with my mother up until then. Soon i was rushed across the country to live with my father and his horrible wife, Eden. As soon as i turned 14, my father signed away eighty percent of his fortune to me. The other twenty went to Eden.

Why did my father do this to me at such a young age, you ask? I will tell you why. Because my father was diagnosed with terminal brain cancer on my fourteenth birthday. He died four weeks later. Now, having only Eden left, I have been forced to live with her. For two years I've put up with her, you see, she doesn't have to pretend anymore. My father is gone and she has his money. That's all she ever wanted. Well today will be the last day. I have my blade. I can end it all right now.

I continue to run for about twenty minutes before stopping at an empty alley way. The perfect place. No one will find me. No one will stop me. I soon realise I am crying. I feel the hot tears slide smoothly down my cheecks in a rapid race. I wipe them away. There was no use. More followed as if to say, before you die Kristin, you need to let your feelings out. I listened to my tears and sat there for a bit. I cried into my hands. I hear nothing but the pitter patter of the rain falling evenly on the cold ground... but wait. What is that sound. I soon come to the conclusion that I also hear... footsteps. Oh no.

"Hello?" A male voice says. He sounded about my age, maybe a little older. "Hello? I know you are there. I heard you." He declares. I stay quiet. As quietly as possible I slip my blade into my pocket. The boy turns the corner. I was quick to realize that this boy was very attractive. He was tall, muscular, and had long, shaggy brown hair. His hair reached just above his eyebrows. I didn't want to stare but not staring was like not breathing, sometimes you want to stop but you'd have to hurt yourself to accomplish your goal. His eyes were a bright blue. Almost as bright as his shirt. His eyebrows fit his face well. They were furrowed inwards as he looked at me.

"Are you alright?" He asks me, sincerity in his voice. I wish he hadn't found me. I was angry. I was sad and mad and confused. I was confused as to why this strange boy was out here, in the rain, wondering around without something as simple as an umbrella. "Peachy." I reply coldly. I didn't want him here. I didn't care how attractive he was. He looked at me in disbelief. "I don't think you're okay." He says idioticly. Oh, we have a real genius on our hands. I thought. I was now irritated and angry. I was less concerned about why he was here. My mind was more fixated on him leaving. "I'm fine." I lie. I would say anything to get him to leave. He looked at me. No emotion was occupying his face, his eyes. He just looked at me. Why he just started I cannot tell you because, frankly, I do not know.

"What." I sneer. Why wouldn't this guy just leave already? What was he here for? If he was here for anything, he'd better be going along and do what he's supposed to. If he wasn't here for anything then he should keep his nose out of other peoples business and go home. Go bake cookies with his mom or something. "Just looking... love." Oh no he didn't. He just called me love. What an ass. "You don't know me. Don't call me that." I hiss.

"Oh, don't be like that love." He said, bending down and lifting my head up so I had to look at him. "Stop calling me that." I demand. This guy was seriously getting on my nerves. He finally lost the smirk that was plastered over his hands on face. Damn he had a hell of a jaw line, I thought to myself. He sat down next to me, staring into the abyss. "Seriously though. What's wrong." He asks. He really wanted to know. I really didn't want to tell him. "That's none of your business." I say, irritation in my voice.