Contains the following trigger warnings: verbal and physical @buse, excessive profanity
It was two in the morning. I had told my dad that I would stay downstairs to clean up the mess. But that's not what I was really doing.
I had grabbed an old backpack from my room and filled it with necessities. Some clothes and my favorite gray hoodie, some non-perishable food, toiletries, some pictures with my friends, and some money I had been saving from work.
I had gathered up the ashes the best I could and put them in a container. Knelt on the ground I carefully picked up the pieces of the urn, collecting them so as to not break it anymore than it was. I placed the pieces in a separate container.
Looking over at the rest of her broken things I sighed. I couldn't take all of it with me. I looked through her things making a mental list of what I couldn't live without. Her perfume, that thankfully survived the rampage, her favorite cardigan, only being dramatically stomped on, and a picture of the two of us.
The picture was taken on my fifth birthday. I was smiling bigger than I had smiled in a long time. My birthday cake was in front of me and my mom was behind me smiling her beautiful smile towards the camera. The cake only had four candles because my mom lost the fifth one. But I didn't care, I was just happy that it was my birthday and that my mom was there with me. The picture, unfortunately, had been torn in half.
I quietly crept into the kitchen to get some tape. I carefully attempted to mend the ripped picture. Once I finished with the tape I turned to leave.
But something caught my eye.
The rest of the beer bottles were sitting on the counter. Full. I walked over to them and picked them up, taking them back to the living room.
My dads car keys were placed by the door. Where he always kept them. I picked them up and put on my hoodie. Zipping up my backpack with the beer, I tiptoed to the garage. I found my bike in the clutter and put on my helmet.
As I walked out the porch light turned on. Cursing under my breath, I prayed that my dad was asleep still. I quietly walked my bike out of the garage and onto the driveway. Setting it down I pulled the beers out of my backpack and opened them. One by one I poured them out onto the driveway, setting each bottle down after they emptied.
I glanced at the car keys in my hand and threw them into the bush. I couldn't risk being pulled over, as I didn't have my license yet. That would get me right back to where I started. I couldn't take the car but at least it would give me a longer head start.
I mounted my bike and took a deep breath in. As I put my feet on the pedals I looked back at my house one more time. A tear formed in my eye and rolled down my cheek. I wiped it away and looked towards the open road. I started to pedal.
This time it would work. This time I would escape.
◦•●◉- ✿*✿ -◉●•◦
Two days.
It had been two days since I left and he still hadn't found me.
Leaving from San Francisco and biking for two days with the exception of food and sleep, I made it just inside Nevada. I didn't know where I wanted to go, I just knew that I needed to get far away. Idaho, or New York, hell, I'd even go all the way to Canada to get away from him.
But after two days of biking I was getting worn out. I needed to rest before I continued.
I found a nice motel and checked into a room. I had a fair amount of money with me so I didn't have to worry about running out anytime soon. I still would have to be cautious though.
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This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things//Five Hargreeves
Fanfiction"This is why we can't have nice things, darling Because you break them, I had to take them away This is why can't have nice things, honey Did you think I wouldn't hear All the things you said about me?" On the 12th hour of the first day of October...
