The Black Widow Queen

Four

"Oh my gosh. What are we doing...." Liana gasps as she looks upon the knots of ropes tied around my "father".

After a moment of silence as I pull the knots tight I speak in a low dead tone.

"Saving our lives." I can feel the slight swirl of anger in my stomach as flashes of moments when he beat on me for no reason. Which disintegrates any sparkles of regret as we stare at his limp body in the beaten old chair. "He might come after us for this. Most likely me."

I glance up at her fear shocked frame. Such a frail persona for such a cruel world.

"Well what are you going to do?" Her voice filling with panic. "You can't leave! We can call the police. We can get help."

For a minute I let it sink in. What if i do leave? Will that be so bad? I can't stay here, he'll kill me.

Quickly I stuff my hand in my fathers pocket.

I can feel Liana's swollen eyes watch in horror as I pull out his wallet. Tearing his debit card from its slot, I rush to the stairs.

I can hear my friends light foot steps close behind me.

Taking two steps at a time, I climb to the landing near my bedroom door. Kicking the door open, I lightly jog to my closet. Tearing pieces of clothing from my view, I pull out a torn green box hidden in the back.

Hesitantly I flip the lid off exposing the contents. Five hundred dollars in twenty dollar bills stare up at me, along with a burnt photo of my mother.

My mom had left this money for me long ago. I found it in the attic with a sticky note on top. Gleaming with my name in my mother's sweet hand writing.

The photo was the remains of anything regarding my mother. My father had gone on a rampage and burnt all the photos in the backyard. I managed to save one of her holding me as a baby in an uncomfortable looking chair at the table. The bottom left corner bitten by the flames. Even crouched at this torn closet, so many years later, my eyes still water at the sight of her.

"W-What's that?" Liana's voice shakes from over my shoulder.

Holding the photo up to my blurring eyes, my hands shake. My insides feeling nothing but a hollow shell of a once innocent young girl.

"My mother." A deeply ingrained whimper cries in my words. A single tear falls from my eyes.

With a sniffle and a loud clear of my throat I slip the photo back in the box. With a slam, I close the box once again. Roughly, I yank an old fair sized purse from behind where the box sat. Stuffing the box into the purse, I come to a stand.

Liana still crouched behind me, a steaming mist of her fear blocking her bright eyes.

Without another word I walk across the hall to the bathroom and gather up my various makeup products into the bag, before zipping it closed.

With a slight jog in my stride, I head down the stair case and towards the door.

"Where are you going?" Liana's frightened tone follows behind me, as I open the front door.

"I don't know." Sliding on my tiny high top shoes and slamming the door behind me.

A slight twinge of regret boils in my stomach but I have to leave. He could go after her, but if she's smart and goes home then nothing bad should really happen. Though I find it almost revolting to think I just left her there, she's my friend. Or at least used to be.

So as I slump down the jagged stone path overgrown with weeds, I search my pockets for my phone. As soon as I locate it in my right back pocket, I quickly switch on the airplane mode. Just so any calls from my friends or "father" can't interrupt my escape.

Though I quickly break out into a jog, just to gain more precious distance between me and that house. My bag heavy on my arm, I come to a stop a handful of blocks away.

This will take forever and I don't even know where I'm headed. Maybe I should just go back......

Reluctantly, I turn on my heal, deciding.

I can't do it. I just can't go back to that. A small voice calls from the back of mind. So, without another thought, I turn back around and keep walking in the beating summer sun.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After an hour of walking in the blistering heat, my feet beginning to feel sore and tired. I've walked all the way across town, stopped at a store or two for water and come up with a plan. I'm going to steal a car and travel as far away as this money will take me.

So as I walk down this preppy, rich, part of town, I gaze at all the different targets. Theres tons of different types, from little red Mercedes to ugly pickups and soccer mom vans.

Walking a few more blocks, I finally decide on a little black car. Simple and hidden, the car is nestled on the right of a little garage, with a large house to the left. Theres no other vehicles in front, the time still before five, so hopefully the people here are away at work.

Though just to make sure I plan to knock on the door. What I'm going to say, I really don't know.

With a comfortable slouch in my walk, I cross the street and walk to the front door. A slight lash of nervousness strikes my stomach but I take a deep breath and quiet it. Taking small steps on the brick trail. Keeping my eyes high at the large brown bricked house and shimmering windows. This house being three times the size of my own.

I stop as the black hard wood door, an ancient door knock calls me with a swirling design.

Hesitantly, I bring my hand to the handle and lift it only to let it fall back onto the door. A loud bang erupts from the door, echoing and barking. Slowly repeating this action two more times before taking a step back and waiting for an answer.

After around ten minutes of waiting for an answer. I set on my plan.

Slouching around the car, hoping nobody sees me. Quietly sneaking towards the driver side door.

Crossing my fingers as I slide the handle into my hand and yank it open.

Nothing, it slides open with no resistance, no siren, nothing. Laughing to myself as the simplicity, I crawl into the seat and check for keys.

They're gone. An empty space stares back at me. My heart sinks into my stomach.

"Looking for these?" Theres a jingle of keys and light crawl of laughter in a deep male voice from behind me.

Slowly turning my head in the direction of the voice, a tall, tanned, dark hared boy grins at me. Keys in hand, a black leather jacket hangs from his broad shoulders, his features implying that he's barely older than me.

"Give me those." My voice demanding and angry.

"Why should I?" His face twisting into disgust. "I need wheels too, ya know?"

"And why should that matter? I could die if I stay in this town." My voice even and lifeless as I stare into his shocked eyes.

After a moment of thinking, his face curls into a snarl.

"Do you even know how to drive?" He spits.

Quiet, I stare him down.

"How about this? I'm keeping this car, but you can tag along till we get a few towns over." He suggests with a killing glare.