The Point of Pain

The End of the Story

She saw the blood mostly wiped off her bruised lip, as she took one last glance in the mirror. She gritted her teeth and grabbed every pill bottle off the counter, tossing them to the bottom of her worn out backpack. 

Sneaking across the squeaky wooden floor while holding her breath she made her way into the bedroom. As silently as possible, she gently opened the top dresser cabinet and took the only clothes it held.   

Hesitantly shaking his shoulder, she whispered, "Max, max wake up." The tired boy squinted his eyes open enough to see his sister's bruised face. 

"Amber what's going on?" he sat up and yawned.

"Max we have to go, come on." She pulled the blanket from him and tried to move him off the mattress they had been sleeping on for two months.

"Why? Where are we going now? Is Mrs. Cathy here?" He asked these questions too often.

"Shh Max, just come on. Quietly grab your backpack buddy." She looked into his pale blue eyes and he knew he had to listen.

Max grabbed his small green backpack from the ground and followed Amber. 

"Listen Max, when I say run, you run as fast as you can. Okay?" He nodded but furrowed a brow. "Where do I run to?" 

Amber played scenarios through her head and decided. "Run out the back door, go over the wire fence and down to the gas station around the corner. When you get there go to the women's bathroom and lock yourself in a stall. I will come get you there." 

"Okay." He rocked on his feet and nodded again. 

"Repeat it back to me Max." She whispered slightly quieter and put her hand on his shoulder.

"Out the back, over the wire fence, to the gas station, lock myself in the women's bathroom." He looked at the oven and took notice it was 3 am. 

"Okay Max, go stand by the backdoor. When you hear me say run, you run and you don't look back. I will be right behind you." She kissed his curly mess of hair and smiled at him like she might never get to again. 

Max tiptoed to the backdoor and waited nervously for his queue. 

The main bedroom door, was old and wooden. But Amber's heart beat louder than the creaking noise of her entrance. She looked at the bed and the fat middle aged man taking up every inch of space. She waited to move until she heard his bellowing snore. 

Within a moment this story ended. 

Amber ran across the room and snatched the shoe box from under the nightstand. She never hesitated even as the bald pervert rolled over and reached out to grab her. Then running to the backdoor as fast as her body permitted. "Max run!"

A new story began.