23rd of May, 1992.
{Home}
I heard shouting across the hall. Banging, clashing. They were fighting again. I didn't want to get involved. I hid under my blanket, hoping not to hear it.
After around 20 minutes, it had gone quiet. I walked outside, slowly. Cracked photos. Broken vases. It was as if a mini apocalypse had started in here. I rubbed the tears from my eyes and walked downstairs. A lot of family photos were broken as I looked around. Suddenly, I heard a loud slap from the living room. It sounded like my father. I started to walk toward the kitchen, but heard furious stomping feet coming right my way. I panicked and grabbed the closest thing to me, a knife. By then, the stomping had stopped. I was looking down, with my hands grasping the knife.
"What are you doing you little brat?" My father's eyes furiously glared at me, both hands holding the knife continuously shivered from fear. He scoffed, staring at my small fists trembling. "You think that can do anything?" My father's voice begins laughing hysterically, sounding psychotic in the process. "You're just like your mother! Weak and miserable. Honestly, I regret even giving life to you!" The brain of mine ceases to function for a few seconds. My own father, saying these words hit a really deep part in my heart. Why did my life have to be like this?
-[5 minutes later]-
I walked back to my room. Tears blurring my vision and a red, burning cheek. I can't take this family anymore. I grabbed a bag and started throwing all my belongings in. I went over to the door, to see my parents infront of me. My mother was crying harder, her wrist in my fathers hands. I could tell that she was forcefully dragged over to my room. "Where do you think your going?" I said nothing. I was trembling in fear, scared of what he would do next. My mother was shaking in fear as well, but I could tell that she was over this. I could feel relief over the words she was about to say. "We had enough of you, you treat us like nothing, WHY DO YOU DO THIS TO US?" Next thing I saw was blood. A long line of blood. On my mothers arm, and on the floorboards. My father was carrying a utility knife with him at all times. He had finally used it. I threw my bag on the floor and hugged my mother, cried with her. We both knew we had to leave that night.
I helped her pack a bag of everything that we both needed, then changed the bandage on her arm. We grabbed another bag and walked down to the kitchen for food and drinks, and hid them in a closet in preparation for the morning.
-[3AM - The Escape]-
My father had walked in to check if I was sleeping, then had walked out to check if mother was as well. I feel as though my father knew we were planning something behind his back. I double checked that he was gone, and went over to the closet and grabbed my supply bag. I snuck over to my mothers room and tapped her on the shoulder. "It's time to go." She grabbed her bag and we snuck off out to the garage. We were about to get in the car, but I stopped my mother. "Mum, I think he knows." "He couldn't. Even if he did, I'd protect you my little muffin." I looked around anxiously and got in the car. I was waiting for my mother to get in, but she didn't. I looked around once again to see a dark, messy and empty garage. I left my bag in the backseat and walked out.
Chapter 1.1, End.
