Chapter 1

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Ty's POV

I ran. I ran from the pain, the sorrow. I ran from the blood, the knives. I ran from the approaching man, hard on my heels. He was panting heavily, sweat plastered the man's dark brown hair to his forehead. I glanced  back at him, tripping over myself in the process. His deep green eyes were staring at me, the pupils dialated untill they were just two dots surrounded by a crazed green gaze. I ran faster.

I looked back at the road in front of me, trying not to slip on the small puddles of rain water that hid the potholes that grabbed hungrily at my gray tattered tenis shoes. My arms pumped my relaxed hands foreward, leaving the rest of my body to do its job on sprinting as fast as I could away from him. My torturer. My cutter. My pain-causer. My brother.

Eventually, I heard a car in the distance. By now, I was quite a ways away from him, so I stopped and waited impatiently for the car that would be my savior.

Then, I saw it as it rounded a corner a few meters away. It was hard to see in the dim light but I could tell that it was some sort of a 2014 Chevy. I ran toward it, waving my arms and screaming. The driver obviously noticed my actions, but before he could pull over to help, he tackled me from behind.

He began ripping my dusty brown hair out, letting it fall out in clumps, and then ripping out more. Eventually, he gave up this sport and began beating my face. I tightly shut my eyes, screaming in pain. By now, my scalp was bleeding, (missing flesh had came off along with the hair), and my nose was definetly gonna need some stiches. He screamed and yelled at me, and I can smell alchohol strongly in his breath.

All of a sudden, I felt something fall on my chest. It seemed like dead weight. I open my eyes, squinting through the tears, to see a mess of sweaty, dark brown hair in my face. My brother was lying, face-down, on me.

I then realized that someone was standing above us, clutching a baseball bat in both hands. He had slightly curled brown hair and his eyes looked black in the non-existing light. He was staring at me worriedly, letting the bat go swing to his side in one hand.

The last thing that I heard before I blacked out was a simple question that I was not able to answer:

"Are you alright?"

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