The Untouchables

OK, So! This is my first story, some constructive critisism would be apreciate, but so would encouragment, you know, just sayin' (;

This is dedicated to my sister, but I'm hoping she doesn't see it incase it sucks. 

P.S/ There is a difference between constructive and helpful critisism and hating. They say you can't stop the hate, but I'm sure as hell gonna try. Haters; Piss off.

Thank you, and I hope you enjoy

The Untouchables, Chapter one

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I slipt on the wet pavement for the umptenth time in the last five minutes, this time however, managing to catch myself on someone's rusty front gate.

The ugly orange colour stuck to my hands, as I straightened myself up, hitching my extremely full duffle bag tighter over my shoulder. 

I wiped them uselessly on my drenched jeans, sighing in frustration. Rain and running did not mix, but sadly I had no choice. 

Glancing over my shoulder for a split second, I speed of down the road, sprinting as fast as my legs would carry me, my dark hair flying about in every single direction.

Cars honked and drivers shouted out profanities at me as I ran across the road without paying any attention to the vechiles cruising down one of the few roads in my neighbourhood that would have this many cars on it this time of night.

I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket to check what time it actually was. Nearly eleven o'clock. But that would have meant I'd  been running for fifteen minutes, yet I felt no closer to my goal than I had when I'd left that hell hole I'd called a home.

I rounded corner after corner, running acorss roads without hesitation, determined on getting to my goal location as soon as possible.

Each time I rounded onto a new street, I expected to see the bald figure of my son-of-a-bitch step-father, Zachary, his face red with anger, standing ahead of me, his knuckles cracking dangerously, his arms extended reading to hurt me...

One day, whe I was five years old, my pregnant mother picked me up from my dance class, an odd expression on her unusualy red, puffy face.

As I walked side by side with her, I couldn't help noticing the other girls' mothers through tiny sympathetic half- smiles in our direction. Something was wrong but I didn't have a clue what.

"Hey, honey," I remembered my mother saying in a weird shaky voice. "You can ride up front today."

Ride up front, next to mother in the car? That was something she never allowed but I wasn't going to say no. Being up the front made me feel like a big girl.

We pulled into the local shop on the way home, My mother said I could have one thing of my choice.

I chose a watermelon flavoured lollipop, my favourite.

Once I had my lollipop, and I was securely buckled into the passenger seat we were finally on our way home.

I didn't recall my mother ever letting me eat in the car let alone in the front seat! I was pretty excited.

When we got home, I had skipped off to my room to take of my dance clothes.

"Emilia, I have something you!" I remembered my mother shouting from the kitchen. I went to investigate happily. Any present was alright with me.

Something was wrong with the way my mother smiled at me as I ran into the kitchen. Sure she was smiling but it didn't reach her eyes.

Me, being the selfish five year old girl that I was, barely noticed her almost pained expression on her face, seeing only the fabulous brown teddy bear she was holding in her out- stretched arms. I named him Mr. Giggles and I still slept with him every night.