Chapter 6 - Facing the Reality of Running Away

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Hey brilliant readers, this chapter is dedicated to *oohiloveyouu* for becoming my first fan! The next chapter will be dedicated to the next person who fans or comments. K x

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Awaking with a start, Sophie found herself violently shivering, lying on a cold, hard floor in the dark. Clearing the sleep from her eyes, she sat up, wincing at the pain in one of her shoulder blades. Still shivering, her hands danced across the nearby floor until they closed around the torch. Flicking it on she glanced at her old watch. Then checked again. It was only 3am! Groaning, she pulled herself to her feet and staggered over to her damp clothes spread over the far shelf. Checking the clothes and deciding the t-shirt was dry enough to be comfortable, Sophie pulled off her jumper - against her chattering teeth's advice - tugged on the extra t-shirt and quickly pulled her jumper back on.

Retrieving the knife from her bag, she slit open the short lengths of two of the sacks and put one inside the other. Pulling another empty bag out of the corner, she slit only one short end and she put this inside another single cut bag. Satisfied, she put away the knife, and wriggled into, first the double ended bags, pulling them right up around her middle, then sliding into the bags with only the one opening, Adjusting the bags so that there were no gaps for cold air to fill, Sophie closed her eyes and ignored the protesting coming from her aching bones.

Groggily coming to a few hours later, Sophie squinted against the rays of sunshine filtering through the old wooden boards. Turning her attention to her current situation, she piled the sacks back up in the corner, shoved the still damp clothes into her backpack then sat on the half filled sack that she had used as a pillow and considered her options.

Option 1. Continue with the running away plan. Get further away from everything she knew. Survive on the few packets of biscuits ... talking about biscuits.

Sophie rifled through her back pack until her fingers brushed against the plastic-y package, and yanked them out of her bag. Right, where was she. Oh, yeah. Running away.

Survive on a few packets of biscuits, and a hunk of mouldy cheese. Possible resort to theft when she goes hungry.

Not a very good option.

Option 2. Go back home. Probably receive an earful, if not a beating and a grounding, from her abusive mother. Be on rations - not as if they weren't all ready - and miss school. Meanwhile getting closer to poverty every day.

That wasn't much of an option either.

Or ... racking her brains, Sophie tried to come up with a third options. Three options were always good. Right!

Option 3. Stay were she was. Keep an eye on her mum, and nip back into the house when she was unconscious. Retrieve some more, warmer clothes, some more food. Her stash of emergency money (all of £6.83). Some blankets. A pillow. Her art supplies and the other school bits. Maybe, with the peace and quiet in the shed, she could work on a few more pieces and get them up on the internet quite soon. Also a decent light, but there was no electricity. A big, re-chargeable torch. She was sure she had seen one somewhere.

That was the best plan. Yes. That was what she would do. For now.

Gathering enough courage to venture back to her house took a couple of hours, but eventually, as the sun was beginning to set, she left the safety of the shed and headed home. What awaited her was something she could never have imagined.

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