When the orange sun touches the skyline I have been staring at I decide to call it a night. I would give anything to stay here instead of going home. No, that isn't my home. Home is a place that comforts you through the tough things you're going through. Then I guess it really is not my home. It's a house, one fillled with awful memories that I long to forget but I know will never happen. I am scared for life thanks to Russel.
I find my way back down the tree and begin the long walk back to the "house" I live in. My feet drag along the side walk and start to fumble when a pile of rocks get under them.
"Oww... frickin' pebbles," I whisper, But a faint tweet distracted me from the pain. I looked around trying to find the source of this sound. When it came again my ears knew where it was coming from. Slowley I turned my head down to see a little grey baby bird with almost no feathers on it.
Its eyes were barley open but I could still see the lost hope in them. This bird had no mom, and where is its father? It looked at me in misery and looked away. Without thinking, I gently snatched the abandoned baby up and dashed back to the house to escape the icey cold fall night that was getting closer.
As I looked down my eyes met with the now sleeping bird. Its face was glued to the sweater I have on and its fragile body was going up and down, in beat with its breathing.
I go through the back door instead of the front. When my hand grabs the freezing cold nob to the door and carfully swings it open, paint chips off and falls to the ground. Luckily for me, Russel was passed out, still in the same spot on the couch. I shiver and look away when a stream of drool runs down the corner of his un-shaved lip.
I creep up the stairs and get back to my room. When the door is closed behind me, I set down the bird and franticaly gather up some things for its "nest". After a minute or too the makeshift home for it is complete. I swoop the baby back up and place it in the basket full of t-shirts and towls. It soon drifts back asleep.
After a while of watching it quietly rest, I take a second to think about what I have done. Russel will probably kill me, or worse kill it! But he never leaves the couch unless it's to go get another beer from the kitchen or take a leak.
I plop down onto my bead and soon as well, fall fast asleep, my nightmares take me away.
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Teen FictionRun is about a young teen who suffers physically and mentally while being abused by her step father. It's a work in progress but I hope you give it a chance and follow along!
