1966

part 1

I could hear the sirens wailing in the distance, and I quickened my pace. I knew my dad wouldn't be waking up for another couple of hours, but my feet were moving in a steady jog.

I kept turning my head, but the side walk was still the same side walk as it was the last time I turned around, the rain was trickling down the dark concrete, and soaking me and my bag as well. I was panting now, my heart was beating a mile a minute and my feet were sore and wet. My black converse were'nt doing a good job of keeping the cold rain off my numb feet, and my long, brown hair was plastered to my flushed face.

I couldn't figure out if the water running down my face was the rain or my salty tears. I reached my cold fingers up to my face a fingered the cut that my father had given me just a couple hours before. The open cut was agonizingly painful, and let out a small whimper as my fingers came in contact with the giant gash. 

I can't believe I am doing this. I am running away. 

I can't be around my father for another day. Another day that he would drink to much, another day that he would come home a hit me, another day that he would yell at me and beg me to stay with him, beg me to forgive him, beg me to believe he was sorry.

i was done giving in, I was done telling that bastard that I still loved him. Because I didn't. Because I hated my father more than i had ever disliked anything or anyone before.

The streets were empty. There were no cars driving along the sodden roads of Tulsa. I knew I was in Tulsa because my mom used to bring my to Tulsa when I was little to visit my Grandmother. My Grandmother used to live in a small bungalow, and whenever my mother and I came round she used to bake a big batch of brownies, and she always bought me a new book, even though I can barely read. I can still barely read, which is stupid, as I'm nearly seventeen.

My feet were still jogging down the flooding side walk, and my converse were still letting water in. But I could hear something behind me.

I turned around, and for the first time I could see headlights in the distance. The car headlights were progressing in my direction. I quickly stumbled to the side of the side walk, and into a vacant lot, and cowered behind a overgrown, green bush. 

The car swiftly went right past me, splashing the water up off the road with its worn down tires. I observed it. It was a red ford. The same red ford that my father drove to work every morning. And sitting in the drivers seat was the old man himself.

I burst out crying. this wasn't happening. He found me. Salty tears were running down my damp face and onto my unbuttoned denim shirt. He would find me. I'm sure he would find me eventually. I couldn't decide what I was supposed to do, so I ran. I ran to the nearest house. I didn't even look at it. I just ran to the door and started thumping my torn up knuckles on the rickety door. I was crying hard, and my fists were clenched with anger.  

My chest was moving up and down rapidly, and my pulse was racing. I could hear footseps inside the house, advancing to the front door.

The door handle wiggled and a young boy was stood at the door. I didn't even notice his expression. I just started pleading.

"Please" I sobbed uncontrollably. I could see the headlights of a car coming down the road, as they came closer and closer, I could feel the pain that filled my body just a couple of hours before. It made my stomach hurt even more.  

"Please, make him leave me alone" I begged the complete stranger as I keeled over on the soaked porch. 

_______________________

Before I even opened my eyes I knew I wasn't at home.  I was lying on a white sheet and there was a large knitted quilt draped over my body. My hair was spread out all around the white pillow that my head was placed on. I still had my denim shirt and black jeans, but my feet were bare.

I suddenly remembered the events of last night. Running away from home, arriving in Tulsa, my dad's ford following me down the side walk, and coming to the small rickety house next to the lot.

That's where I must be at the moment. In the house.

I could hear voices outside the door of the room I was lying in. There were the noises of pots and pans clanging together outside too. I counted about five male voices outside, and one of them was coming closer to the dark wooden door.

I quickly turned over to face the wall and shut my eyes. I hadn't prepared myself for what I was going to say to the boy that came in the room.

I heard the door handle turning and one of the boys that was outside enter the room. Once he opened the door he took a couple of steps inside the room and then stood still. I could feel his gaze on me as I was lying with my back to the boy. 

He took a long sigh and turned to exit the room. I took my own sigh of relief. How was I going to get out of here? How could I get around the people just next door and escape? i sat up in the bed and looked for a window. There wasn't any. 

I started panicking, what if the men outside didn't let me go? I quickly slipped on my converse and tied up the laces, picking up my rucksack as I did so. I stood up and walked over to the door. I reached my hand out to the door handle, but the silver knob turned before I put my hand on it.

I gasped and stepped back as the door opened inwards and a young boy was stood in the hallway.

"Hey" he said grinning at me.

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