Chapter 2

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*Kayla's POV*

     I drag myself down to my room again after one of my father's beatings. I swear they get worse every time. It must be the fact that he has had so much practice when it comes to hurting me.

     I lay down on my bed, looking at my ankle. It's purple and swollen up to more than twice it's size. It hurts enough to where I'm pretty sure I broke it when father pushed me down the stairs.

     I've been trying to plan my escape from this place for an entire week, coming to nothing. I can't get father out of the house very easily and if he does, he always locks the doors. The more I think about it, the more I realize I might as well give up all hope. I'm stuck here with my father and that's how it will probably always be.

      I fall asleep still thinking of ways I could escape, if the moment presents itself.

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     I wake up to a silent house, which is not normal for me. I look around my room. Nothing seems to be touched. Now I'm curious as to where father is, seeing as he is usually my wake up call with all of his screaming.

     After sitting there for 10 minutes, waiting to see my father come barging into my room or for him to start yelling at me, I come to the conclusion it is safe to come out of my room.

     I limped out my small bedroom and looked up the stairs, seeing all the lights on in the upstairs landing. The TV could be heard as it played some action movie. I slowly crept up the steps, hoping for fate to be on my side and not let one of the steps squeak as I climbed.

     Father was passed out on the couch, beer spilt on his dirty white T-Shirt and all over the couch. That was another thing for me to clean up. The TV screen was flashing the credits of some horror film, rather than an action like I originally thought. Father's phone lay on the ground by his arm, which was dangling off the sofa. If I wasn't a mute (if you hadn't already realized), I would call for help. However, the case is that I am mute and this is not possible.

      But what really caught my eye were the keys on top of the beer fridge. How could father have forgotten to put them back up where I couldn't find them?

     A thought came to mind. If I had some money, I could easily get out of here and be alright. I know the keys also hold the keys to the safe in father's room. If I could sneak in there...

     I snatched the keys before I could change my mind and hurried to go to fathers room. Once I got in there, my eyes went straight to the big safe in the back of his room. I stumbled over my probably broken ankle and all the empty beer bottles in the room on my way to the safe.

     Once I finally reached the safe, I opened it up slowly, as to not wake father up, and observed the inside. There were cases of beer, cigarettes, lighters, guns, and ammo in the main part of the safe. On the door however, held a small box. I opened it up to find the box filled with money. Mum had been saving this money to get me a car when I turned 16, and wished for dad to do so for me after she died. However, with my 16th birthday already 2 months past, I gave up on the promise.

     I took as little money as I could to where I could survive for a while, but father wouldn'r notice. I then put the box back in the safe before limping back to the landing. Father was still passed out on the couch, so I headed down to the main floor. I grabbed an apple and banana from the fruit bowl we kept and went back to my room.

     I placed my money, the food and a picture of my mom and I in the bag, along with some old clothes I still had. I limped back out of my room, keys in hand. As I was about to go towards the door, I realized something was off.

     The lights upstairs were off, so was the TV. I was positive I hadn't turned the lights off.

     The bathroom door upstairs slammed shut. I hurried to turn towards the front door and unlock it. It finally clicked, right as I heard footsteps coming down the stairs.

     "KAYLA!" Father's voice boomed behind me. I yanked the door open and hurried outside, turning and slamming the door in my drunken father's face.

     I ignored the pain in my ankle as I tried to run from that place. The building which held my nightmare, the reason for my suffering. I could still hear father yelling at me from down the sidewalk, but I didn't care. I continued to run as fast as I could, pushing past people on my way.

     I must have been running for at least 10 minues before I came across an alley, It was in between two large buildings, one huge, circular looking arena, and another a large business. I limped into the alley, hoping to find my calm from the storm. The arena was loud from even out here, but maybe that is a good thing. Maybe it could keep me hidden.

     After just leaning against a wall for a little while, I could hear footsteps from behind me. Thinking it was father, I grabbed my bag and took off at a run once again, only to be knocked off my feet by a door hitting me in the face.

     "OH MY GOD!"

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