This is my second MCR fan fiction, I enjoy writing about MCR. I guess it's easier t get into. Well enjoy rescue, no hate please.
X~Cheyenne
I awoke to blinding sun and of course being screamed at and hit. The usual for me. My foster parents had never been good to me, they hated me. I hadn't of had any idea why they adopted me in the first place considering the only thing they use me for is a slave. Cooking, cleaning, and my foster father didn't just use me as a slave for household chores. I literally lived in hell. A real living hell.
My foster father, Paul, was screaming in my face to get up.
"Annalise get the fuck up off your ugly emo ass and make some god damn breakfast you stupid cunt"
I was used to all the things he called me, considering it happened every day. I got up and got dressed, then walked downstairs to make breakfast. I made bacon, eggs and toast and set it on the table for Paul to eat. I then went to my room to finish getting ready to go to school.
School, still a living hell as well but better than home. I threw on my MCR hoodie and finished my eye liner. My black hair was straightened and I had old tore up black converse on. Not only did Paul call me emo and many other names but so did the kids at school. Mainly jocks and preps but some others. I try to block them out at much as possible but one can only take so much.
I arrived at school, dreading it but happy it was the last day of school. I was to go onto my senior year after this. One more year. Just one.
I stepped into my 1st hour class, science, and sat down, doodling the MCR danger days widow spider in my notebook when I heard an annoying group of laughing jocks walk in. They mumbled something to each other then walked over to me. I peered out from underneath my hair and one of them began to speak
"so freak, last day. This means we won't get to see you until September. Sucks doesn't it? I know you're gonna miss us, we sure will miss you."
I replied with a "fuck off" and went back to my notebook.
He then picked up my notebook and threw it to the ground and lifted up my head angrily. "look you stupid freak, don't tell me to fuck off okay? Stupid emo whore." I jerked my head out of his grasp and spit in his face, "whatever you say asshole." I then got up and retrieved my notebook from the floor and sat back down. Waving them off as they cursed at me.
Soon class started and the day went by as normal. Long boring and the occasional last day activities from teachers. Nothing I had enjoyed.
I began to make the long walk home from school, as I did everyday, but today was different. I don't mean how it was hot outside... I mean today Paul would be working late so I took advantage of this. I arrived at home and started to walk upstairs, then realizing Paul had not left yet. He ran up the stairs after me, grabbing onto my leg and pulling me down forcefully. He then began punching me, first in the stomach then in the face repeatedly. I tried to get up and run away but there was no chance. He grabbed my hair and threw me down. "stupid nasty emo" he fumed at me, slurring his words. Obviously drunk. He gave me an evil grin, looking me up and down then dragging me up the stairs with rage.
He pulled me into his room, yellowed brown eyes staring at me, hair sticking up in various directions. He then stumbled to the drawer of his night stand and pulled out a roll of duct tape, proceeding to tape my hands and mouth even whilst I was struggling to break free. Rummaging through his drawers again, he pulled out a bundle of rope. Fear crept into my eyes as I tried to fight my tears, not wanting to show weakness to this horrible man in front of me. He tied my legs to the bed posts, followed by my arms and climbed on top of me. My eyes darted to his hand where he flicked open a pocket knife. He then began to cut across my arms and hands. Leaving streams of blood flowing quickly down onto the already crimson sheets. My life flashed before my eyes, not knowing how far Paul would think of going with this. He then cut my cheekbone slightly then peered down to my chest,it was moving up and down rapidly as my breathing became quicker, fearing what was to happen next.
Paul lowered the knife to the valley of my chest, cutting down in between my breasts followed by a smooth blood stream after words. He then got up from his position on top of me, grabbed his jacket and left. I peered out the window, seeing that he left for work.
I didn't hesitate to attempt breaking free of the ropes.
Once I finally managed to break free I ran to the bathroom, well limped because of having numerous bruises and aches on my thighs and shins. I cleaned off all the blood and looked in the mirror, I looked like a horror movie. I looked as if I had been abused and beaten. Which I had been. I threw on some cover up on the mark across my cheek bone and cringed as it hit the still raw cut. I then threw on my MCR hoodie that had been torn off me while being dragged up the stairs. I packed a backpack:
2 pairs of jeans
My MCR tshirt my "aunt" had got me before she passed away
My iPod that my only friend, Diana got me that was filled with My Chem, and other bands I liked.
Then I grabbed $25.00 that I had been keeping from one of my birthdays also before my aunt passed.
All this should have been enough to keep me content until I could find a job.
I walked to the front door, and stepped outside. Today I escaped this hell hole. Today I would become my own, start a new life. This was the day I run away.
