"Tears streamed down my face as Nick (Her step dad) inched his way across the room to me. "QUIT YOUR CRYING. YOU'RE 15 YEARS OLD! NOW GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE" His voiced boomed over my muffled sobs. "NO! YOU CAN'T MAKE ME!" my frail self cuddled into a small ball at the edge of my bed.
Of course this wouldn't be the first time he had done this to me... it was a nightly routine, ever since Mum- I mean... Mother *gulp* Passed... It was like I was a doll to him. I was almost like a smaller version of her and he must have thought "Hey? Why not try and gain something out of her... I mean after all SHE WAS her daughter" How sick is that?! Anyways... so back to the story.
His large hands clenched into fists as he slipped off his large jeans and... I can't talk about this anymore"
Trinity recalled the thought from the night she had ran away from her home, it's what her mother would have wanted for her... the best she could ever get.
But let's take it a bit farther back... shall we?
The date was August 24th of 2013, a completely normal Autumn day for most, a nightmare for the one brown haired, green eyed, strange girl at the end of the rode.
"JUST TAKE IT YOU FUCKING SLUT" All she could hear was his awful voice, it was as if nothing was more horrifying.
His thrusts became even harder and harder as he reached his climax from the poor child. With a loud moan he came outside onto her stomach.
A slap for her, and he exited the room leaving her on the floor in a pool of tears, I mean who WOULDN'T cry?
"I-I... I can't live this way anymore!" Trinity cried out attempting to stand up, it being difficult due to the large ropes tied around her ankles. "OH SHIT I REMEMBER! T-THE POCKET KNIFE!" She thought, hobbling over to the dusty night stand and ruffling through drawer upon drawer in search for the large blade. Once retrieved and in an act of panic, she sliced through the heavy ropes with a quick motion. "It worked!"
A smile plastered on her face, she bolted quickly over to the closet grabbing an old duffel bag, shoving dirty t-shirts, ripped jeans, muddy sneakers, socks with holes in the toes, and her life savings, around $400.
"Goodbye... 'home'" Her quiet voice squeaked out as she pulled her large hoodie over her face, hiding her large dark under eye circles and pale face.
LEAP! Her hair flowed in the air stream as she felt herself fall to the ground, "nothing to bad" A large scratch snaked its way up her calf, blood trickling from the wound.
In an act of endurance, she bolted down the cracked pavement and onto the road, making her way to the town field about a 5 miles from the house.
Her tired, aching legs felt numb and her panting became heavy once she reached about 2.5 miles away from the park. But she continued on regardless of the exhaustion.
You might be wondering, "Why on Earth would she be going to the park? Instead of oh I don't know.. THE COPS?"
Growing up, Mum always took her to the park... it was a place of joy and comfort, why not go there and maybe hide under a bush, or tree, or bench? Seemed alright.
With one last ounce of strength, Trinity climbed one of the trees located near the swing set. Sitting upon the tallest and longest branch to try and sleep... she knew she wouldn't fall.
**THE NEXT MORNING**
"Fuck..." Her tired voice croaked out with her hands fumbling to wipe her dreary eyes.
A large growling noise over took her ear drums "I'm starving" she exclaimed hopping down from the large pine, grabbing the duffel she stumbled with exhaustion down the rode, her torn flip flops clacking against the stone.
Her outfit had consisted of baggy boy shorts, a tank top, and a large over sized Maine hoodie.
Her apperance used to be a joyful one, a happy one, a beautiful girl indeed.
