Runaway

I was running, running fast without looking back. I couldn't look back. He could be coming after me. I needed to get away, the way Emily got away. 

I could hear her shrieks of pain. The horrible sound I would hear so often. I stay in my room every time this happens, hurdled in my bed. Mom was out, of course, that's the only time he does it, abuse us. You'd think a sixteen year old girl could take care of herself or her eighteen year old sister could take care of you and herself, but we couldn't, we can't do anything about what he does. How could we escape this? We needed to, but how? Another shriek of pain interrupted my thoughts, this cry was different though. Like the pain had increased by one hundred times. He must have used something other than his hand, his cold hand-cold as his heart. I pulled the blankets around me, I started to cry. 

An hour went by and the door opened. It was Emily, her cheeks stained with tears, bruises on her arms. She looked sad. She came and curled up beside me. She took my hand, "We'll get out of here Rogue." she was looking down, "Soon, we'll get help. We'll get out together." 

That was a year ago. 

Why does he do this to us? Is it because of all our money? 

I let that thought slip a little and moved on to more pressing thoughts. 

How did she manage to get out? How did I get out? I need to find her, somehow I need to find her. 

My mind went back to what had happened a few minutes ago. 

He motioned for me to come towards him, I disagreed shaking my head and looking down. He grabbed my hand, I pulled back but his grip was too tight, he pulled me into the room. The room was all dark except one window. A window big enough for me to go through, to escape. I need to escape. He sat me down beside the window, it seemed as if he was trying to taunt me, to try to escape. He walked out of the room and closed the door without looking back. I heard the lock click. He came back in with a bag. I could hear the tools clanking together in the bag. He placed the bag down on the table next to the chair I was sitting in. He rubbed his hands, then he struck my face leaving a stinging sensation. He turned away. I glanced at the window, it was pulling me in although I couldn't move. My feet were tied together but my hands weren't. He knew he didn't need to tie my hands. 

He turned back and punched my shoulder. He had something in his hand, something he must have grabbed from the tool bag. I glanced at the window again. He didn't notice. He turned around again, this was my chance. I got up. I started hobbling towards the window, my hands free ready to steady myself if I fell. I kept wobbling. My hands reached the window sill, as I try to pull myself up he grabbed my feet pulling me back in the window. I kicked my legs as best I could. I heard a thunk and I heard the table fall over, all the tools fell I heard the same clanking noise as I had hear before although this time the sounds were echoing. I pulled myself up once again, tasting grass in my mouth, my face in the dirt. I propelled the rest of my body on the grass. I saw my mom's gardening shears, surely that would work. I grabbed the shears and leaned down to cut the rope off my ankles. I started running, no looking back, just get away. 

I had finally reached Wright Avenue, the road right before the church. A small plan formed in the back of my mind. I could stay the night at the church, wait until Al and Mom go to work and then get my money and a few clothes, and Al's stash. Where could it be? Under Mom's lamp shade! I remembered one time Emily said she went to look for his stash of money. She said it was there. I'll need to go see Brandon tomorrow as well. I need to find her. 

•◘◘•  

I opened my eyes, the dark sun shining through the mosaic window, the colours beautifully surrounding the room. There wasn't anyone else in the church yet. I need to wait until four o'clock before Al leaves. Mom will be coming back at five so I only have an hour to get in and out of the house. I'll need money and maybe a few clothes. I looked at the clock. Five thirty? In the morning! Its only five thirty? Maybe I should try going back to sleep.