You dashed up the stairs faster than you had ever run in your life. The house phone was clutched in one hand, and your fathers' wallet in the other as you ran into your room and slammed the door shut. You push your dresser in front of the door as you hear your parents down stairs. You begin to regret the conversation you had started downstairs. You yanked your white suitcase out of your walk in wardrobe. You began shoving t-shirts and pants into it as the shouting gets louder. You glance at the clock on your nightstand breathing heavily. 11:58. 2 minutes until you turn 18 and can leave. You sweep a stray hair that hadn't been caught in your braid behind your ear. You shove your one black dress and matching heels in the suitcase and throw all your make up in, zipping the lid shut in a fervor.
You grab your school backpack and pour the contents onto your perfectly made bed. You begin shoving drawing pads and pencil cases inside, a few books piled on top. You dump your contact book and diary inside zipping it closed. You look at the clock again. 11:59. 1 minute until you can leave. You hear a loud bang from downstairs and your mother's scream. Ou put your hands over your moth in horror. Then crying. Thank God she wasn't dead. Then the footsteps of your dad on the stairs. You freeze. Clock check. 30 seconds. You pull on your white trench-coat and your back pack over that. You open up your 2nd story window and throw your suitcase onto the trampoline your brothers play on. You sit on the ledge and swing over to the vines on the side of the house. You pull the window shut, the house phone in your pocket.
You struggle down the house side and fall the last several feet. You dash over to the trampoline and drag your suitcase off it, running for the front yard. You start running down the road, fast as possible until you got to the cross road. You gasp for breathe and head towards the town. You keep glancing over your shoulder, looking for your father or the family car. Nothing. You keep walking for half an hour. The sun is hidden in the clouds and you get hungry, having skipped lunch in order to confront your family. You see the first building and start jogging. You need to get out of here. The storm over head gets darker and windier as you keep heading to the town. Soon rain drops start falling fast and hard on the Kansas ground. You dash into the post office and buy a ticket to Kansas City.
You wait inside for the bus to come, and you are one of 5 passengers. You sit in the far back, turning up your collar. The rain streaks the window as you wait to pull out of the station. You feel tears roll down your cheeks, but you don't know if they're from relief or sorrow. You have wanted to do this for the longest time, and never gotten the chance. You smile sadly and shift slightly. You fall asleep to the sounds of thunder and hail.
'About time, too. The middle of November and no rain or snow yet. I was worried it wouldn't come at all. At least this will help me. I need change.' You think dully as sleep claims you. You dream of New York. Tall buildings, newly built after the attack 2 summers ago. You always wanted to go to New York. Now you had a destination.
You wake up as you pull into KC. You run off the bus, your back pack and suitcase packed to bursting. You look around for the terminal for a ticket booth. You see one and run over. The ticket seller is a boy, a few years older than you, and looks a little cute, but not very much. He looks at you as you step up, undressing you with his eyes. You roll yours and push that pesky hair behind your ear again.
"One ticket to New York, as fast as possible please." You say politely. Your family sucked, but they had taught you manners. He smiles at you in a rape face and you swallow a small pit of phlegm. He runs up a ticket and leans forward waving it under your nose.
"That's gonna be 20 dollars darlin'. Sure your sweet little honey buns can afford that?" He says, his southern drawl heavier than yours. You roll your eyes again and push the bill towards him. He slides the ticket across to you and you snatch it up nodding politely at him. You turn to walk away and he grabs your braid, tugging at it. You screech and spin around, making it tug harder. He let's go laughing and you feel tears pricking your eyes. You dash to the train terminal and hop on dashing to a window seat, tears pouring from your eyes. You wipe them away with a handkerchief and sniff pathetically. Someone sat down across from me and I looked up at them. A man and a woman were sitting together.
They looked like a couple, from his hand on her knee, to his arm around her shoulder. She was even leaning against him with a lazy look on her face. However, they let off a sense of awkwardness, like they didn't actually date or do anything. Like they were just keeping up appearances. The woman tossed you a glance and looked back out the window, then looked again. She sat up straight and the man removed himself from her side. Definitely appearances. She looked worried and leaned towards you, pulling out a spare hanky and holding out to you. You smile and take it, dabbing at your eyes delicately.
"Running away?" she said casually as if she met runaway's every day. You nod and hand her back the hanky. "I know the signs. Really full bag, messy shoes, splatters on the legs from running. I've run away enough times to know the signs. Me and Clint both. I'm Natalie." She smiled warmly and extended her hand. You smile and take it, shaking it lightly. She sits back against the man, but now it seems more natural, like they do this all the time. "Who are you again?" You freeze. What were you supposed to say? If she wasn't as sympathetic as she seemed then she could turn you in for a reward. You could only lie. A false name.
"Rose. Rose Brennan." You say slowly. Great. BBC meets 'Bones'. Real smooth 'Rose'. Natalie can tell you're lying, but doesn't push. She just smiles and nods her head.
"Well, Rose, it's nice to meet you. Headed for New York?" Nod. "Us too. We're meeting some friends. First time." Nod. "Well why don't you stick with us, at least until we get to the city. Okay?" She actually seems to want to talk.
"Thanks Natalie. I'm kind of lost right now." You say in relief. Clint smiles and readjusts his sunglasses. He seems kind of serious but also playful, like a bulldog. You chat for most of the ride, stopping when one of you fell asleep or went to the food car. You read through 'Pride and Prejudice' and fall asleep twice. Natalie shakes you awake as the train stops. She smiles and hands you a card.
"Here's my number. If you need help, call me. Buy Rose." She smiles and leaves. You want to call out after her, but know if you plan on surviving you can't cling to anyone else's skirts. You stand up and pull on your coat, adjusting your back pack. You step off the train to the most beautiful sight ever. New York in a blanket of snow. You sigh and head towards Times Square enjoying the sights and sounds of the city that never sleeps. You meander to a hotel right on the Square and rent a room. It's expensive but you use your fathers' credit card. You go up and place your suitcase on the floor. The bed doesn't have bugs and the pay is cheap. Best find a job. But first you need a make-over.