The Heart of a Murderess

Away

A/N This chapter I dedicated to @nightflightthehero for picking the awesome play list for me to write to. 😜 luv ya batface!!!!

>{ Away }<

~Away~ on the way : along

>Seven years and eight months later<

I shove my cloths into the bag.

Back when my dad die they transported me, that same day, to some family in Portland.

I was only there for three months before they decided I wasn't worth the money they were spending to put me in therapy. But really I couldn't blame them now; little girl, small, sad, always crying, and never talking.

I would have got rid of me too.

Then they sent me to an orphanage. The kids there where mean. They took to beating me up and stealing my food.

I never tried defending myself. No, I stopped trying. I had no one left. What was the point of living?

When I turned fourteen a family that couldn't have children adopted me. They were sweet and nice. They even bought me a iPhone. But they weren't my family.

My first night there I downed a bottle of pills and vodka. I wanted to die. So bad. I didn't want this world. But I woke up the next morning alive and with a killer headache.

So then I tried slicing my wrists. But I didn't die and I had to go tell the couple what I did. They took me to the ER where I got stitches and was shipped back to the orphanage.

Everyone wanted me but no one did.

I spent the last three years at that horrible orphanage. Plotting my escape. True I'm almost eighteen but I can't wait that long. I need to run away. That's why I'm packing. I am so done with this 'adopting' shit!

I throw one more shirt into the bag. That's all my stuff.

I zip my bag and shove it under the bed.

Just in time too, Janet knocks at my door.

I mentally groan.

"Heyyyy! How's it going?" without stoping to hear an answer she continues. "Tomorrow all of us, as a family, are going to go to Sunday worship."

I don't say anything back I just stare blankly off into the distance.

Like hell I'm going to worship a god that doesn't exist. If there was a god then he wouldn't have taken a mother not ready to die.

"Kay?" she says snapping her gum.

"Ya whatever." I mumble.

She seams happy with my answer and stalks off to make someone else annoyed.

Maybe in another life i would think Janet is pretty with her long blond hair, green eyes and built frame. But this isn't another world and I don't.

A little while later they call me down to eat. I'm ignored as usual as the conversation immanently turns to there perfect daughter talking about herself.

"So Angus, how is that wonderful art project coming?" Janet's chirpy voice asks.

Just shut up.

"Amazingly! I have almost everything done!" she chirps back.

This family is full of fucking birds.

"Such talent in this family! Such talent!" Janet proclaims.

Angus gives me an ugly smirk at her mothers comment.

I ignore it.

Angus, like her mother, has long blond hair but she doesn't have her mothers eyes or her nice built frame. Instead she has a ugly mix of brown and green eyes and a slim skinny body.

"So how was your day, dear?" Janet asks her husband.

He starts going on about some account he is dealing with and something about some client with a dead eye.

I stop listening to his words.

No one ever asks me how my day was. The one time they did I'd told them that I cut my writs to see how much pain I could feel. But long ago the nerve endings in my hands and writs died.

Kill me. Just kill me.

He stops talking and they all turn to me.

I stop breathing as they stare at me. I exhale and look down at my hands.

A fork lays impaled in my hand.

Shit. Did I do that?!

The look on there faces say yes.

Burt clears his throat.

I stand from the place I was sitting and go upstairs to my bathroom.

I turn the water on and shut the door.

The blood trickles off my hand as the water rushes over it.

I wish I could feel the pain. But no, I can't.

Janet knocks at the door.

"I thought you might need these." she hands me some bandages.

I don't thank her. I know I should, so she has a nice memory of me before I go. But I don't.

"I'm going to bed." I whisper.

I take the bandages with me.

I close the door then sit and rap up my hand.

I stuff the leftover bandages in my bag.

I might need them again.

I stuff the bag back under the bed and lay down.

I sit there for a while before I hear Angus talking on her phone.

"Ya. Like today, at dinner she, ya! No we were listening to my dad talk about some work shit and she stabbed herself in the hand with a fork!" She practically yells.

God she a bitch.

"I wish she'd do us all a favor and just kill herself."

I wish she'd do us all a favor and just kill herself.

Believe me I've fucking tried.

I stand and walk to her bedroom door then slam it open.

She sit on her bed looking surprised.

"Maybe the next time you decide to trash someone you should learn how to keep your head out of you ass and maybe think for once that just because you ass is bigger then the moon that does not mean that your the queen of all, bitch!" my voice comes out horse but dripping with venom.

"I-um...." she stutters.

"Ya that's what I thought." I say storming out of the room.

I grab my bag and look at the time.

Perfect. Time to go.

Since the possibility of me escaping through the front door is slim beyond compare, I go to my window.

I open the curtains and the window.

I look out into the night and slip through.

I steady myself on the roof as I stand.

Now how to get down.

I consider all options but in the end I trip and fall down with my bag falling after me.

I groan as the pain shoots through my legs.

The front lights flip on. And the curtains in the windows shift.

I shoot up from the ground then sprint off into the airy, cold, venturesome night.

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