Runaway Love. ~

Chapter 1. ~

"Colbie, you're such a worthless piece of shit. It's a disgrace to call you my daughter" my once nice father yelled at me while kicking and spitting at me. I'm used to this kind of torture. It's sad, really. "I'm going out for a drink," 

"More like ten." I said, and instantly wishing I could take it back. His big black boots collided with my ribs. 

"Make dinner, and if it's not ready by the time I get back, you WILL regret it." He grunted. Then he went outside, slamming the door, I might add. The car's shitty engine was roaring, and I was waiting for it to get fainter. Waiting for him to leave. 

So I can run away. 

I run out of the room I was just beaten in and to the tiny room under the stairs, just like Harry Potter. I grabbed my already packed small bags filled with clothes, books, money (from when I was younger, so not much.) and my song book. Yes, I write songs. Speaking of that, I need to get my guitar. The one given to me in my mother's name. Yes, my mother is dead, and that's how this all started. 

My mother was out shopping for maternity clothing one day. While she was pregnant with me. She ran into another woman, who was doing the same. Her name was Johannah. And so when they each had they're babies, me and Louis (That was what Johannah named her son.) became best friends. Everything in life was perfect, until about three and a half, maybe four years ago. My mother, she got very, very sick. Me and Louis were still inseparable, as were my mother and Johannah. A couple of days later, we took my mother to the hospital. She had leukemia. She died less than a month later. I got overwhelmed with sorries and love, but nothing could make me feel better. I loved my mom with everything I had. And then, about a month after she passed, my father, who was once so sweet, and nice, and perfect, turned into a monster. He moved me out into the middle of nowhere, and started hurting me, mentally, verbally, and definitely physically. And not one of my friends came looking for me, so I stopped believing that they cared. I was stunned that Louis hadn't called once, or even came by. 

I shutter at the thought of all that has happened to me. I grab all of my belongings, slip on my shoes, and run. Run as far as my legs could carry me. 

I was a runaway.