Run Away

The Begining

I was born Friday April the 13th 2001. My parents have called me a "curse" since day one. They hated me so much. My dad had said; "Honey, why don't we wait until she's older. Then we will know what she's like."

That day they agreed they wouldn't hurt me in any way. I knew my mom still hated me the most, but she put up with it the best she could.

When I was four years old they sent me to school. They kept getting notes, and letters from my teacher saying how bad I was in class. My parents would yell at me any time they got a note or letter like that from my teacher. Thankfully I did learn to behave. I would sit in class quietly, speak only when I was asked to, and got all my work done with out complaining. That's what my parents taught me, and of course, I listened to them.

When I got to grade 1 I still followed by those rules my parents taught me. Execept, my parents added in a new rule. I had to get all A's in everything that I did. Now with only being about 6 years old, and only in grade one, that would be hard. I was told that if I ever got anything lower than an A, I would be in huge trouble. My parents would sometimes hit me if I got a B+ or even an A-. The problem with my parents hitting me is that people would always ask me why I had cuts, and scars on my face. Eventually my parents pulled me out of school, and said they would 'Home school' me. Obviously they didn't. They used me as their slave, and would hit me whenever I made the slightest of a mistake.

When I was in grade 3 I tried calling 911, but my mom caught me. She pulled the phone away, hanged up, then broke it. After that, I was locked in my room. My windows were boarded up, any electronics, or anything I could contact anyone was taken away. They locked my door on the outside, and only gave me food when they felt like it. I hated my life. Everyday I wished I would just die.

When I turned 13 they would sometimes let me out of my room, so I could walk around, clean up there messes and get "Fresh air".

I remember I was cleaning up the upstairs, and I was about to clean my parents bedroom when I heard them talking.

"Henry, I'm pregnant!"

"Wait what? What are we going to do! How will we tell Kendall?"

"We won't, she'll never know."

"Ok but what if she does find out?"

"She'll probably be dead by then. And if she isn't we'll lock her up in her room, and starve her to death!"

I quickly walked away from the bedroom door. I didn't want to know anymore. I started to quickly think of what I could do to save myself. 'Run away' was the first, and only thought that came to mind. I knew I would have to if I wanted to live. I made a plan that I would run away tonight, and I'll run away far, very far.