"A teenage girl who drinks fuckin' Diet Pepsi? Sounds weird man, she's probably one of your ghost friends."
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CHAPTER TWO
DIET PEPSI
-MAXINE MASTERS
I arrived at Addison Apartments late into the night two days after I left. During that time I received no texts or phone calls, no police scares, and certainly no amber alerts. I wasn't even quite sure if my parents had reported me missing yet. Still, even then it's very possible they just discounted me as another runaway who'd eventually return home one day. The runaway part is true, they got that right, but I'd rather die than step one foot back in Washington.There weren't many photos of the apartment online, in fact, there were only three. One of the parking lot, the front entrance, and the front desk. The place appeared to be old, but well-kept and clean, which was a plus. To get the apartment I had to forge my sister's signature on the lease which I printed and mailed across the country to Mr. Addison, the building's owner, whom I spoke to over the phone.
I knew what I was doing was illegal, very, but it wasn't like I had much of a choice. Living on the streets isn't necessarily what I envisioned for the rest of my teenage years. The apartment, bank accounts, and being able to drive are the necessities and I could survive on that but sometimes you just have to say yolo and grab a pack of beer.
If I'm caught before I turn eighteen I won't be trialed as an adult, which is a plus, but the moment I turn eighteen I'm changing everything into my name anyway. I don't pride myself on stealing my dead sister's identity, even though it benefits me currently.
With a sigh, I looked off into the parking lot and observed the rest of the tenant's cars. The majority of them were older models, many of which were dented or scraped, and a few had windows full of stickers, which I could admit gave them a lot of character.
Unbuckling my seatbelt I turned off my truck and packed everything back into my backpack. I had cleaned out all the empty bottles and five-hour-energies at a rest stop when entering Nockfell.
Speaking of energy, I was extremely low on it. Only pulling over once to take a quick power nap probably wasn't the best idea in this situation, but I truly wanted to get as far away from home as fast as I could.
Dragging my lulling body out of the truck my knees buckled as soon as my feet hit the floor. Okay, a forty-hour drive, seven Red Bulls, a couple of rockstars, energy shots, one hour of sleep, and a protein bar probably wasn't the best rate of consumption for my little 'road trip'.
Groaning, I use the handle of my door to pull myself and my bruised knees off of the ground. In the corner of my left eye, I spot two figures, one tall, another shorter, but not entirely short, leaning against a tree. The taller one was breathing out large clouds of smoke, while the other remained stagnant. The tree they leaned against had a small treehouse on top. It looked like one you'd find in children's storybooks.
They didn't look like they saw me, or my fall. So I moved along with my night, choosing not to engage in conversation. Opening the passenger seat I grabbed Liah out of her sleep and scooped her into my arms. We needed a nap.
With only my backpack and my cat, I headed inside. I was met with a cozy smell and warm tinted lighting. Right ahead of the entrance door was an elevator, in good (that's a stretch) condition. Overall, my first impressions were alright. The front desk was off to the side, although no one was working this late. On the opposite side of the desk were many individual mail slots, some were open, and some were closed. I assumed the opened ones were apartments with no tenants.
Without thinking I wandered over to my mailbox, 401. Sliding Liah over to only my left arm I unhooked my keyring from my belt loop, grabbed my apartment key, and tried opening the lock. It opened quickly with a click. That's convenient.
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Runaways |Sally Face|
Fanfiction"You can't run from everything!" Those words echoed in Maxine Masters' head as she escaped her childhood home. She left no note, no voicemail, not a sign of where she fled. With her cat, a backpack, and $5,000 in straight cash she crossed state lin...