Hello every one. Well here i go again. this story i have been working on for eight months. I have like close to 20 chp done so you won't have to wait to long between posting. I started the story not as a fanfic. The Characters will not be the norm, only by name. I wanted to know if this could turn into something i could publish, so please let me know what you think.

WARNING: there will be errors and misspells and whatevers. It is a ROUGH draft. Be kind to my dyslexic self.

JOJO

Walking home

Chapter one

POV: The Runaway

Home was never sweet for me. Home was just somewhere to sleep at night. It was never warm and inviting. For the past fourteen years, it was even painful to go home. The expression "home is where the heart is", home is where my heart was beaten, and left to bleed.

When the chance was giving to me to leave, I took it without hesitation. I got what I could carry, and anything that had any meaning to me, and walked out. My feet couldn't move me fast enough as that house got father and father into the distance. I wanted to forget, I wanted to start over. I wanted a home of my own, some place where no one could touch me. But I knew my feet wouldn't get me far.

That's why I ended up in some bar, just out side of the state border of Oregon. It was dirty and run down, filled with drunk bikers and even drunker old men. Surprisingly, I had been in worse situations. I needed to find someone to give me a ride. Why waist money on a bus, when I could jump in the back of someone's truck, and watch the world fly by.

The bar was to the left. It was made of ply wood and rusty screws. The bartender was a tall man with white hair. He was looking at me from the glass he was drying with a dirty rag.

"What do you want?" he's voice was deep and graveled, like he smoked to much.

"Just a soda." Then I thought about the glass and the rag. "In a can." I added.

He huffed and reached into a cooler set behind him. He pulled out a coke can and wiped it off with his dirty rag.

"Dollar twenty-five" he said as he slid the can across the bar to me. I pulled out two dollars I had in my pocket, and slapped it on the bar. I turned and walked away form him to find a seat. I found a high table with an empty chair in the back of the room. I pulled my army bag off my shoulders and set it on the floor between my feet. I left my backpack on and sat back. I waited and watched for any sign of someone who might be heading as far away from here as possible.

I slowly sipped my coke as people came and went. I caught conversations of where some of them were headed. None of them where going far enough. Then a tall biker came in. He had on a dark brown leather jacket, and dark wash tight jeans, and black boots. He had light blond hair cut close to his head. I had a feeling he was trying to make himself look harder than what he was by the way he was carrying himself. Over the years I had trained myself to notice people's moods and behaviors. I had to know who I could trust and who I had to run from. But his eyes contradicted his demeanor, they were light blue and they seemed warm. But those also had a look I new well. They had seen things they didn't want to see again.

He went to the bar and got a beer, than he chose an empty table near the same corner as me. He didn't even acknowledge I was there. He slowly sipped his beer while his eyes stared at the table. It was like he didn't want to pay attention to anyone or have them pay attention to him. His long fingers wrapped around his bottle and rested on the table. He barley moved.

"Hey, sweet heart. What's a sweet little thing like you doing here? You need a ride home?" A very husky, very drunk voice came from my right. I could feel his breath on my neck as he knelt over the back of my chair. He placed his hand on the table in front of me, probably to steady himself.

"No, thank you." I said with as much determination as I could.

"Oh, come on sweetie. I'll take you home to your mommy." He laughed and touched my shoulder. I quickly reached my hand into my pocket. I pulled out my switchblade and slammed my hand on the table, flipping open then blade.

"I said No" I raised my voice. My blood was pumping. I could feel my ears burning under my hoodie.

"Oh now don't be like that." he chuckled. Apparently I wasn't intimidating this guy. Before I could speak his hand slammed down on my wrist keeping me from lifting my arm. His face pushed into the back of my hoodie, I could hear him as he took in a deep breath, smelling me. My stomach wrenched, memories came flooding back into my mind. I was about to scream when I heard a hard voice speak up to my left. I hadn't even notice anyone was there.

"She doesn't want a ride, so how about you back up" I couldn't move my eyes off of the huge hand that was painfully pressing into my wrist. My breathing was out of control and my heart felt like it was going to explode out of my chest.

"Why don't you go back to your corner and close your eyes." The big man to my right hissed.

"Why don't you go get another beer before I shove that one down your throat." the mystery voice was getting smoother, harsher. His voice was unique, one that I couldn't describe.

"You're digging a whole stranger." The big man said, but his grip on me released. He took a step back and grunted. When I could finally move I turn my head to the left just in time to see the biker I noticed earlier, walk off back to his table. He chugged the rest of his beer down, then turned for the door. He didn't even look at me, he just walked out. My body started to move before my brain. I grabbed my bag off the ground and slung it over my shoulder and ran after him. Something about him called to me, something told me that he was my ticket out of here.