Bruises (On Hold)

Chapter One

Maybe it was wrong of me. Or maybe it wasn't. But at this point I didn't care. My feelings were mixed all over the place, scattered around like dirty clothes and garbage on the floor of a teenage boy's room.

My heart pumped with adrenaline and fear. I ran with all my might, the light of the moon shining on my brown hair.

I gasped for air, but continued to run. I knew I was running out of breath, but I dismissed it, and pushed that thought to the back of my head.

"COME BACK HERE!" He roared with anger.

I was determined to not give up. I just needed to run a little longer and then I'll be safe.

Run. Run. Run. My mind told me.

The words repeated in my head, my legs taking wide steps as I ran faster than I ever had before.

My throat burned and my feet hurt from running for so long. I could feel the dryness in my mouth and the breeze attacking me as I hurried my pace.

"DAMN IT YOU SLUT!" I could feel the rage through his voice as if it had vibrated the concrete sidewalk I ran on.

I turned my head slightly, looking behind me. Shit. He was getting closer.

I begged my legs to go faster as they ached to stop. I'm almost there.

All of a sudden, I was tackled to the ground, landing on the grass, a huge body above me. My eyes widened in fear and panic.

"You little bitch. Don't ever run away from me! You're going to pay for what you did back there." He yelled.

My mind went back to earlier, the events fresh in my brain.

*Earlier that night*

I laid in my bed, my eyes staring up at my white blank ceiling. I felt as if the blankness of that ceiling was like me. I didn't really feel anything at that moment. I just felt.. numb and blank like the white that stared back at me.

My stomach growled at me, denying my thoughts. I felt one other thing than that, I felt hungry. I sighed, it was the middle of the night, I didn't want to get up.

My stomach growled again, like it was yelling at me to get food. I glared at my ceiling before pulling the blanket off my legs.

My bare feet touched the cold wooden floor of my room. Shivering in my tank top and shorts, I walked down the wooden stairs. I didn't need to be quiet like most teenagers do when they sneak downstairs. My dad wasn't even home, which was typical. For some other teens, their parents would be home by now. Yea, well not mine.

My dad is a workaholic, and when he is home he's an alcoholic so that's not any better. There's only a couple times when I see him home and actually sober. Those are the good times. But it hurts to know he rather be at work or getting wasted instead of helping his daughter. But I guess he just doesn't care. I don't think anyone cares.

My mom would probably be home by this time. But I don't really know anymore. It's been a while without her. I miss her.. a lot. Sometimes I wonder if she misses me up there too. I hope she does, but I doubt it. No one would miss me. But that's ok. It's ok. I'm ok.

I sighed stepping into the kitchen. I checked the fridge, glaring at it when I realized we didn't have any good food.

"Sorry bud, you'll just have to wait till the morning." I said, poking my tummy.