A place full of pill poppers and drama filled teenagers, she was the breath of fresh air that he needed. And he was the stain in her squeaky clean life. Her own personal euphoria.
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The wind whipped around harshly as Charity marched her way further and further from her house. She didn't care where she was going. All she could think about was getting far away from her mother.
She felt as if she wasn't even walking far. And if she was, the distance was just being eaten up by the next blow up she'd have because her mother would try and control her.
She just wanted to be as far away from the woman as possible. She wiped angrily at the tears that had fallen down her face but they wouldn't stop coming and it just made her cry more. Her hands were freezing and she didn't even grab her coat when she marched out the door.
She probably looked ridiculous to anyone riding by.
She wore a black sweater dress that stopped at her knees and she had slipped her feet into the closet shoes to her, the bright blue and green sea turtle house shoes she usually wore. Her hair was all over her head from letting down her tight puff ball ponytail. And she now had mascara running down her cheek. And her lip was busted.
But she couldn't bring herself to turn around just to get a coat. And so she continued to walk along the sidewalk without a coat and not a care in the world about being sick or how she looked to the public eye.
