The Time to Run

Chapter 1

Daniel Daywood

Pounding. Pounding. Pounding like rain, like someone is stomping their feet a thousand times. Like dulled, made slightly deaf, gunshots.

That was all I heard when walking through the halls of York High. It was sad to say, that I liked it. Nobody bothered me, no one even noticed me. I was just another face in the crowd. Another rain drop in the pouring and drenched sky. Another instrument in a symphony. I was nothing special, it was just students went out of their way to remind me of that.

I went to my home room. Which, was math. I was advanced in all the classes. So math was a breeze. A breath of fresh air. But...I might have answered all the questions Mrs. Davies asked. Oops.

Next, I went to Creative Talents. Basically, four teachers teach four things, Art, Singing, Dancing, and Drama. There was probably a lot more talents, but there was only four teachers. I got Art. My teacher was Mr. Red. I was lucky. All the teachers in York High loved me. And Mr. Red was no exception.

Today, I was handed a yellow piece of paper, like all the students. I quickly scanned through it.

...It was for a talent show. And sighing up. And all that stuff. Great. I wondered if I should sigh up. I had to look pretty for this. Wait. I had to look pretty for this.

My decision was made.

I was going to sigh up. For...Singing. Eh, it was basically the only thing I've been told I was good at. Other than school. 

It was the only thing I got complemented on.

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I walked home slowly. Anything to avoid the pain I was basically walking into.

I looked down at my arms. No new bruises.

Oh, wait. No, I had one new bruise. On my thigh.

I might go through school hours unscathed, but I never passed that test when I was at home.

My home was one of the very secluded houses in the woods. While I went to school in Yorkton Ridge, I lived in Greenton Ridge. A good mile from York High. I remember when I moved here, I was nine. I used to be tan. I was happy. I used to have two sisters. Well, I still have two sisters, I only have one that lives with me.

Katie and Rain. They were the best thing that ever happened to me. Katie...was simply gone. To an asylum. She was the spitting image of my mom. She had eyes the color of charcoal and her hair was onyx black. She was older than me by one year. And Rain, she had only my father in her, but in mini, nice, female version. I remember how her blue eyes would sparkle and she used to flip her gold curls around if she didn't get anything she wanted. Rain was with me. I had taken the role of a father. Now, I was the mixture. I had dark black hair and gray eyes. We were always happy.

Not anymore.

I looked up at the large cottage like house that stood before me.

Rocks were mostly the cottage's foundation. It was the color of stone. It looked slightly abandoned. With weeds and vines growing and sprouting.

I unsteadily walked on the rundown porch. I got out my keys, and I opened the door. My heart pounded. My breath came in short silent gasps. I walked in. I went to the living room as quietly as I could.

I saw my father, passed out on the floor with a beer bottle cradled to his side. My breath caught. I slowly tiptoed to my room. I sat down on my dull and small bed. My heart was racing. I had to steady my breathing. My little sister, Rain, whispered, "He tried to come in. I was scared. You gonna be my new daddy?"

I nodded. Oh Rain. Rain was the only thing to live for. If I died, where would Rain go? I whispered back, "'Course, Rainy. I'll be your daddy. I already told you that" It seemed everyday she asked ne that. I always said the same thing.

Rain nodded contently. After a few moments of singing, Rain fell asleep.

I had nothing to do.

So, I started my homework. And, I slowly, stupidly fell asleep.

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I was jerked awake. I immediately began to panic. Rain. Rain. I looked around for her. Not seeing her calmed me down. Hopefully, she hid himself. I saw my father's blue bloodshot eyes glare, full of hate, at me. His ash blond hair was a mess, like a crow tried to make a nest in it. His breath was stale and it reeked of  strong smelling and burning alcohol. His eyes were dazed and unfocused. His cold and hard hands gripped my arms back, so I couldn't move. He was putting all his weight on me, hurting my new and old bruises. He slowly began to hit me. Over and over again. A fist struck me on my scarred cheekbone, my left, and another fist slugged me in the stomach. I sucked in a breath to... tell...him...I softly gasped, "Father...I'm signing up for the talent show...I have to look nice...no more hitting"

My father let out a hiss. He jumped off of me, leaving me stunned and throbbing in pain.

I immediately started to panic when he brought out the that gleamed in the darkness. The knife.

I hoped Rain never saw this.

When ever I tried to defy him, he got out this wickedly sharp knife and gave me a scar. I had defied him three times in the past. I, in turn, got three scars. One on my left cheekbone, another on slash on my right eyebrow, and a small mistake of a cut on my chin.

He grasped me roughly, and whispered in my ear, "Your body don't gotta look nice"

With that he pushed me away from him, and the air near my chest, near my colarbone, went whooosh. I felt pain shoot in a arc, on my colarbone. I forced myself to look down at the thing that was causing me agony.

On my colarbone, was a long cut, crimson blood gushed out, I was losing blood fast. I could already feel myself getting dizzy. I stumbled away from my...this person.

He was no longer my father. Just the person who hated me and wanted me gone.

I began to walk unsteadily to the bathroom. I heard his cruel and harsh laughter ringing through the air.

I couldn't even walk. I had to crawl. So I crawled. My eyesight was blurry and unclear. I had to fight the urge to throw up, when I felt my own blood dripping in a frenzy. I got to the bathroom, I...couldn't...feel...my...self...

What about Rain?...

I faded off into darkness.