In "Family Ties," the Moretti family is everything, or so they thought. But beneath the surface of loyalty lies a web of betrayal and lies. In the heart of this tangled mess, the Morettis struggle to find their footing, torn apart by secrets and dec...
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15 years old
Just one more day, one more day in this hell hole I call home. She'll come get me she promised she won't leave me behind. She said she wouldn't let him hurt me again, she would take me away and give me a better life....she lied.
"Didn't I tell your ass bring me back something to fucking drink" I heard my father yell at my mother, his hand shoots out, connecting with Mom's cheek. The sound of the impact echoes through the room.
My mother staggers back, her hands flying up to cradle her face. Tears stream down her cheeks, but she doesn't make a sound. My father's shoulders slump, and he staggers towards the couch, collapsing onto it with a heavy sigh. The room fills with the smell of stale alcohol and old fear.
Istand frozen in the doorway, my heart pounding. I knew how this night would end, it always ended with the same outcome. It starts with smack and leads to a beaten. I quickly grabbed my journal, ran to my room and locked the door. When I was younger my older sister would always tell me she would take me away from this place, we shared the same father but different mothers. She would come over every summer until her mother found out our father was abusing her too. She promised me one day she would get married and take me away. I still held on hope that she would come in just a few hours she would come through that door and take me away. But hours turned into days, then months. Everyday I thought about ending it all, and all that would be left of me is a journal of my whole life. The horrible stories that make up my life, but who would want to leave a legacy like that.
"Jacob please!!! stop!!" I heard my mother scream
I couldn't take it anymore, my hands shake as I pull open the drawer of my dresser. Inside, nestled amidst the clothes, is a small, worn-out backpack. It's barely big enough, but it'll have to do. I shove in a change of clothes and my journal. I never had the guts to runaway, where would I go. A girl like me wouldn't survive a night in the Heights. But tonight I didn't care I gathered the rest of my things and took off not knowing where to go. It felt like I was walking for hours, my legs couldn't take another step. Tears stream down my face, but they don't dampen my resolve. I'm free, at least for now. And in this moment, that's all that matters.
The world blurs around me, the familiar sidewalk a blur of cracks and broken concrete, my feet drag, each step a struggle.
Suddenly, a car pulls up beside me, idling at a stop. I startle, my heart leaping into my chest. It's an old, beat-up sedan, the paint peeling, the windows fogged. An old man sits behind the wheel, his face hidden in shadow.
"Hey do you need a ride or something?" he mumbles, his voice thick with sleep.
"No, I'm just walking to the train station," I stammer, my mind racing. This is a bad idea, a dangerous idea. But I'm so tired, so desperate for this journey to be over.
