A Tale of Two Runaways

I came up with the idea for this story, do not steal it!

This contains strong language, just a heads up.

Prologue:

Kara's POV

   My mouth connects with the soggy hamburger, and I cross my legs in front of me. Rain pours around me, and I shiver, chewing slowly. I pull a dirty raincoat tighter around my body, not bothering to think who owned the jacket, or how it ended up here. This is the first food I've had since yesterday, and all I ate then was a forgotten bag of peanuts. I don't even deserve to eat, though. I practically killed my own father. 

   When I was 9 years old, my family took a road trip to Yellowstone National Park. We were a normal family, you know, my parents and I. That trip ruined my life forever. 

6 years earlier

"Daddy?" I said quietly, as we passed the sign for a highway rest stop. He must not have heard me. "Daddy?" I asked a little louder to my father, who was behind the steering wheel. My mom was asleep beside him in the passenger's seat.

"Yes, sweet heart?" He replied, as any daddy would. He glanced at me through the rear view mirror.

"I need to go to the bathroom." I crossed my legs. "Now."

"Right now?"

"Daddy I really have to go." I was crying, as I told to my father. My mommy was awake now.

   He turned to the left to make it on the ramp for the rest stop. When he did this, though, he must not have seen the semi- truck that was swerving down the highway, drunk driver and all. It hit us at 70 miles per hour, right on my dad's side of the car. If we hadn't been in the farther lane from the ramp, we would have been fine. But we had to cross the highway. 

   Glass shattered all around me as the car rolled, and all I could smell was smoke. We were driving through Indiana, only a few hours from home. The last sound I remember from the wreck was more crashing, as other cars weren't able to hit their brakes in time. 

   My daddy died that day, on the scene, and so did my happy family. My mom has hated me ever since, saying it was all my fault, that if I hadn't been crying, we wouldn't have turned. She left me a year later. She left her 10 year old daughter, all alone. 

   So I guess that brings me here, alone in an alleyway in New York City, eating half of a hamburger that someone threw out their car window.

Tyler's POV

"Tyler!" I hear someone yell from downstairs. "Get your sorry ass down here!" It's my foster dad. My birth mom had me when she was 16, my age now, so she put me up for adoption. I ended up in the foster system. I yank the navy blue comforter off my body and tiredly stumble out of bed. What did I do now?

   Stretching, I yawn and arch my back, before walking out of my carpeted bedroom, or should I say the Green's guest bedroom. My feet make their way to the stairs. Mr. Green, my foster father, is at the bottom of the wooden staircase, red faced and obviously furious. 

"You were supposed to do the dishes last night!" He bellows at me. I roll my eyes.

"I did the dishes last night." I say, remembering the night before. I scrubbed the week old dirty dishes that he was too lazy to do himself.

"Well," He yells, "You forgot this one!" He holds up a mug, and waves it around. "When I say do the dishes, I mean all of them!"

   I can not believe this man. I don't even say anything as I walk back to my room, hearing him yell at me all the way. I pull on a t- shirt and some jeans before walking down the stairs. I walk by the hallway mirror, and see that my brown hair is disheveled, and that my green eyes are tired and barely focused.

Whatever. 

I trudge down the stairs, to see that shithead- I mean Mr. Green is on the phone, probably with his wife or the orphanage, complaining about me.

"That kid is useless and lazy, he needs to get straightened out!" He says loudly, still holding the mug. 

I walk past him, ignoring him completely, and pull on some dirty old converse before turning around. Mr. Green hangs up the phone, seeing me. 

"You little-" He runs after me. I slip out the front door, but not before the white coffee mug comes flying out the door behind me, hitting me square in the back.

This is not going to be a good day.

So, guys, what do you think? Should I continue?

Would you rather see more in Kara's POV or Tyler's? I am probably going to end up switching the point of view every chapter or so.