Even if I did run away? Where am I going to go? I'm eleven. I guess wherever the road leads me.
At perfect timing I looked out the window to momma and Tommy getting in the car.
I took out a pink backpack that I had in my closet. I packed anything I could use. Last time I "tried" to run away, I didn't pack anything. I just hoped I would magically float to a happy place. I started packing clothes. The only clothes I owned; three pairs of shorts, four t- shirts with several stains and holes, two pairs of socks, five pairs of underwear, one pair of shoes.
Would I need money?
I skidded to my parents bedroom. I've only been here one time, and that was when my dad was beating me with a belt. I don't even remember for what. There was a silver box on my mother's night stand, I rummaged through the jewelry. I pulled a string and at the very bottom, cash.
Two fifties.
I went to the restroom and packed a toilet paper roll. I packed a bunch of granola bars, and two bottles of water. I think I had everything packed. Suddenly I start to do a checklist on my mind. I gasped as I forgot the most important thing in my life. I ran back to my room, opened a little drawer and slipped Her into my pocket.
I smiled at the thought of Her. Now I was ready to go.
I decided not to leave through the front door. If my neighbors saw me run away, they would most definitely tell my parents. I crawled out my bedroom window. Our backyard was fenced in, I climbed over it, getting a tiny splinter. I could not believe I was outside. I rarely am ever outside. The smell of the outside was refreshing. The sun was bright. The wind was calm. I smiled.
Peace.
YOU ARE READING
The Flower Girl
Short StoryA child abuse story. Katherine Brooks. Eleven years old. Her parents don't like her, she gets abused a lot by them. But she doesn't know how to stop it. She wants to be happy. But how?
