Escape

Chapter four

My eyes fluttered open to see the sunrise caressing my face, it's golden light gently awakening me.

When I moved ever so slightly I let out a groan of pain, recalling the prior events.

After basking in the morning light for a few more minutes I forced myself to rise up and make my way downstairs.

The main points of my body where the sharp pains struck were my arms, neck, ass, and chest.

I found a fresh pot of coffee made and poured myself a large cup.

Buck most likely made it before heading off to the rodeo to help out with Slash J.

I simply sat on the couch and leisurely sipped away at my mug, watching some corny sci-fi movie.

Abruptly I heard thumping and groaning upstairs, then a groggy Dallas stumbles down the stairs half dressed in only his jeans.

"The hell are you doing up so early?" He whined from the kitchen.

I glanced at the clock, early? Dallas hunny it's ten thirty, that's kinda late.

"It's ten thirty. Of course I'm up." I glumly responded, swirling the remanence of my coffee in my cup.

Dally plopped down beside me wolfing down a bowl of cereal.

Out of the corner of his eye, he looked at me puzzled before blurting out words that had to do with me not eating.

"I'm not hungry ." I tediously replied without making prolonged eye contact.

The bitter truth was that I was quite peckish but I didn't want to eat.

I couldn't bring myself to, it just didn't feel right.

Whenever I was about to even try to eat, I'd feel sick, sicker than a leper.

It's been that way since I became a teenager or a 'woman' if I'm being honest.

It was one of the only things I could control in my life.

Of course I'd lie, saying I was fine or had eaten that day but really I couldn't care any less for the action.

Dally didn't know, no one did.

So I just minded my own business.

"Why do you sound so bitchy?" Dally slammed his bowl down and glared at me scornfully.

I felt betrayed at his sudden crudeness and stormed upstairs, frantic to avoid any further conflict.

The first thing I did was rummage through the drawers to find clothes to wear.

My loot of the search was some straight leg jeans that were obviously men's but who cares, and a white tee that was actually a woman's, then an old pair of converse that I left at Buck's the last time I was there.

The pants fit decently but we're a little long and the tee was slightly tight.

I left everything I had dawned the night before in the spare room and walked out the door without bidding Dally goodbye.

On the streets I strolled back to my home, wanting to find some of my jewelry to accessorize the plain outfit and hopefully a hairbrush since I had to throw my hair into a low bun.

Upon turning the corner, I saw a bunch of sleazy hoods eyeing me disgustingly.

Then, the ultra violence returned.

I needed to release some rage, blow off some steam.

My despicable mind led them on, turning into alleyways until we reached a dead end.

They thought they were playing their game but it was really mine and they were not even a muse so to speak.

Profanities we're spewed at me once more, not for sex but their intentions were to mug me.

And just like that one by one they came at me.

And each time they were beaten bloody and bad.

There were only three of them.

Three scrawny victims for me to take some anger out on, punching bags if you will.

My home situation enabled me to not dodge their blows nor tolerate their kicks.

The three goons were slow and predictable, making it easy for me to us stage surrounding area as my tool.

Garbage can lids, steel pipes, broken bottles and brick walls were my greatest asset in the moment.

I ended up knocking all three out with the assistance of the brick wall and decided to turn the tables.

The first one, the youngest looking had a lovely silver ring in the shape of a crown in his pocket, mine now.

The second one, the foulest looking was carrying fifteen dollars in a wad of five dollar bills, oh lucky me.

Oh but the third, the third one carried a beautiful blood red handled switch blade six inches long, just like Two-Bit's but red.

So Dally doesn't want me packing? Oh well...

My thoughts rambled on as I reached the dreaded house I called home.

As expected it was a literal ghost town aside from myself.

Just to take advantage of the moment, I sat down on the couch and watched T.V.

I couldn't even remember the last time I had done such an obscure thing under that roof.

The screen went black for a while, and I just stared at my reflection, nearly unrecognizable.

My eyes were still as deep but colder, my smile was cynical to say the least, my face was contorted into an expression of pure laughter and I merely cackled for as long a a I could.

Then the ultra violence was gone just as quickly as it came.

It was as if I had women up from a dream.

"What have I done?" I stared at the switch blade mortified.

And as if it couldn't get any worse, the blood that wan not my own that coated my knuckles flashed a gleaming red sheen.

I was slipping, but into what?

Insanity?

Another ring of hell?

Or possibly I was waking up from a horrible nightmare?

But the most logical answer was that I was slowly creeping into my parents shoes and was destined to become just as they were or possible worse.

I let out a cry of terror and grasped at myself before collapsing onto the floor and crying without a single tear.

I was a monster.