A False Sense of Security

Chapter 1

Just a little more to the right, I struggled. Got it!. I escaped from my chains with my handy Bobbi pin. I quietly placed the heavy and cold chains down so he couldn't hear.

I just have to make it through the hallway, into the front room, and out the front door. If I make it out into the apartment complex, people would surely hear my cries for help.

I got up slowly and started to gently twist the knob of the closet door. I opened it a crack and looked out, well as much as I could, into the dreaded hallway that always brought torture whenever I tried to escape from his clutches.

No one is there, it's empty. I sighed inwardly. I opened it a little more and stopped so it wouldn't make that stupid creaking sound. I repeated that process till there was enough space for me to slide through the door. I tiptoed slowly to the doorway of the front room.

I peered around the corner and there he was sprawled out on the couch black out drunk, as usual. There was 10-15 empty beer bottles around the couch and spaced out around the living room. I had the urge to break one of the beer bottles and put myself out my misery by getting rid of him, saving myself from a life time of cautiousness and always looking over my shoulder. But being the over thinker that I am, I could wake him up and do something wrong, so I would end up where I was before.

I looked at the front door, which was straight past the couch, like it was the holy golden gates and Jesus was right on the other side being sprinkled with fairy dust by oversized babies with wings wearing huge diapers. Just a few more steps and I will be free and safe.

I walk slowly towards the door trying to make sure I don't make any loud noises. Though knowing the state he is in it probably wouldn't do a thing. I finally reach the door. There are no locks which I thank sweet baby Jesus for. I twist the knob and just as I'm about to open the door I feel a hand on my back.

"Ahhh" I scream as I jolt up in my bed, I look around scared as hell. I see my dog, Lucy, where my back was laying. I hate having these nightmares. I looked over to the clock on my nightstand. It read 4:00 am, I sigh. "At least I got to sleep a little longer than yesterday," I softly say to myself trying not to wake up my brothers and Bruce, even though it is a big house, I still gotta have manners, right?

I go down the hall and take a shower, knowing if I wait till later there will be no hot water left. I turn on the shower take out my messy bun, and let my long, red hair flow down to the bottom of my butt, because my hair is really long. I undress out of my spaghetti strap tank top and running shorts and step into the nice, relaxing shower.

Once I'm finished it's 4:30. I then go and get changed into what I'm going to wear today for school. I probably know what your all thinking 'School, Yay!' I'm being sarcastic, by the way. Your going to hear a lot of that.

I decide to where a black top, with sleeves the size of two fingers, with a red and black plaid skirt, black leggings, black combat heel boots and put on my black glasses. Yes I know I wear a lot of black, but it's my favorite color so how could I not wear it. My wide lensed glasses fit perfectly on my big and naturally blushed cheeks, which compliment my skinny and oval shaped face. The glasses somewhat hide the only insecure thing on my body.

My eyes.

Many people have told me they are really unique, but I don't take that word kindly. Based off my years of being called 'unique' by the people in kindergarten and most of elementary school, who avoided me and talked about me in whispers thinking I didn't know what they were saying. Hell, even the teachers called me unique, but not because of how I look, but of how I thought.

I'm pretty smart, make that really smart, actually make it Einstein smart. I don't like to boast about myself. I'm pretty humble, if I do say so myself. Although my best friends, well only friends, but that doesn't make them anymore unloved to me, like to brag about me and, I guess, for me all the time.

I brush my teeth, wash my face, and try and brush the tangled wavy mess, more like jungle though, that is my hair. I exit into the hallway of my house, well it's a mansion which I'm entirely grateful for but again I don't like to boast so I just call it my house. I start my descent down the stairs and to the kitchen.

I walk in and it is deserted. I look at the clock on the microwave. It read 5:00 am. Yay! Just enough time to make french toast! I start to get the ingredients out so I can make one of my favorite breakfasts.

After I'm done cooking I put out everything for everyone when they come down. I grab a couple a pieces, and by a couple I mean like 10, and start to decorate my slices of heaven with sugary goodness and flavor. I finish cutting it and right when I'm about to take a bite it's gone. No! I scream inwardly.