It's been a week since I killed my dad. I've been so confused, my mind twisted, making me relive the last week. Making me relive when mom kicked me out. That part still confuses me. Why did she kick me out? Does she realize I was only trying to protect her? I've been thinking about this all week. The thought is enough to exhaust me. Right now, though, I'm okay. I've got food, and water, and am just trying to get out of the city. I've also been moving only by night, so no on will see me. I feel sad that everyone I knew--my friends, everyone---will only think of me as a murderer now. Or will they? I doubt my side of the story will come out. Mom would never let anyone know she was being abused. I ran into a telephone pole, snapping me from my thoughts. This would be so much faster if I had a bike. I looked up, where a skateboard park loomed ahead. I've got to get past that tonight, because tomorrow is Saturday and it'll be full. I don't want to be spotted. When did my mind start to think like this, like a criminal's? Well, maybe I am a criminal. I shiver, it's freezing, even through the long sleeved shirt I'm wearing. When I left, I had fifty bucks in my pocket, so I went into a store where I know nobody would have watched the news since their shift started, and bought a few shirts and some boots. And some food. Thankfully, that place is cheap. I saw blue, red, and white on the sidewalk in front of me, coming from behind me, and ducked into some bushes. They didn't have their sirens on. Did they see me? No, they were pulling over a car. Right in front of me. I waited quietly, for the cop and the guy pulled over to leave, but after the guy got a warning, they started having a nice conversation. Nice for them.
YOU ARE READING
New Life
General FictionTanearme Fletcher has been running away from the police since she was thirteen, when she killed her dad for being abusive to her mom. She's scared of what to do, and doesn't have anyone who can help. That is until she meets Alex.
