HOMRA One shots (K project)

A Runaway

~ Reader's POV ~

My hoodie was drenched in rain, it clung to my skin and the cold seeped into my bones. I swung my backpack around my aching shoulders again, keeping it from slipping off my back. My muscles ached and my limbs were quivering. I had been walking for so long, I didn't know where I was or what time it was. I was walking down back roads; dirt was stuck to my shoes and the bottom of my ripped jeans. I glanced up at the area ahead of me, not recognizing the large city that was slowly coming into view. I decided to head into it, there was sure to be some kind of shelter where I could hang out for a few days. I had nothing to lose anymore anyways.

(Flash Back)

I landed on the carpeted floor with a loud thud, instantly cradling my bleeding hand and whimpering at the bruise forming over my eye.

"Good for nothing little shit." My foster father slurred, throwing the bloody kitchen knife across the living room. It clanged against a wall and landed on the ground, just centimeters away from me.

He turned around to head back into his bedroom, where he would continue drinking his life away and watching endless re-runs on repeat. Leaving me with all the stress of taking care of a household and my schoolwork.

My mother and father were murdered when I was a toddler, no more than two years old. I was placed in a correctional facility to help with therapy for what I witnessed, but none of my other family cared to come and pick me up. So I was put into an orphanage, only to get put back every time. I somehow ended up with this bastard who doesn't have a wife and won't return me. He needs somebody to take care of his house and all the work that goes along with it.

I sat on the ground, tears dripping onto the carpet and anger boiling up in my gut, this life wasn't fair, I did nothing to deserve it and I wasn't going to stand for it any longer. I stood up and hovered over the knife, looking down at it with pained eyes. I had to do something. And so, I picked it up, gripping the handle tightly in my shaking hand, I wandered up the stairs quietly, listening as the low static of the television got louder and louder.

I covered my mouth with my hand as I let out sobs; I never wanted to kill anybody, but maybe with this I could have a different life.

I turned into his room; he was sitting there, slouched in the large rocking chair with his back turned to me. I felt the rage swell in my chest and I gritted my teeth, walking up to the chair. I raised the knife above my head and brought it down with a yell, slicing right into his skull. I cringed at the sight; blood everywhere, all over me. I pulled the knife out of his head and quickly stumbled into action. I changed my clothes and packed all the things I would need. I took the bloody clothes and the knife and stuffed them into a separate bag; I would burn them later.

I sighed deeply, pulling the bag onto my back and shielding my face with my hood. I opened the front door and headed out into the night, never to look back.

(End of Flash Back)

It was dark again, but the city was bright with light, emitting from every possible place, and leaving the night sky in a colorful hue. I smiled, pulling the hood off my head and I began to look for places to stay, I needed to get some sleep.

As I was wandering through the city, I spoke with different people, found new places and actually had a large grin on my face the whole time. I looked through the maps I had received and went into bars and hotels. But by the end of my hunting, despite all the information I had, I didn't find any place I could wait out the remaining night. I slumped against a brick wall at the edge of an alley, sinking down to the ground. I guess here would have to do. I opened the backpack and pulled another hoodie out to use as a pillow.