All Sonic Characters Belong to SEGA.

The whole story is in Amy's POV. Should I continue?

Leaving

I don't even know where my destination is going to be. But I can't stay home anymore. I just can't.

A few years ago, my mother passed away and my father married this whore of a hedgehog named Lauren. He forced me to call her my new "stepmom" but that's never going to happen and it never will. Why?

Because this sky-blue, brown-eyed hedgehog, Lauren, is an abusive piece of shit.

Every night and day ever since my dad married her, Lauren has been abusing me, both physically and emotionally, over every little thing for no reason. I don't even know what her freaking problem is. She yells at me for not doing what she told me to do and if I "give her the attitude," she would beat me mercilessly until I'm on the floor, crying in agony. And whenever my dad is not around, Lauren would glare at me, call me a "bitch" over and over again, and then she would go too far into saying that "I am nothing but a piece of shit lying on the floor who will have nothing to live for in the future."

The worst part—Lauren threatened me several times that if I tell Daddy about what happened to me—all covered with bruises and a black eye—she would still beat me more if I snitch on her. She forced me to say to him that "I'm so clumsy and I keep falling down the stairs." That's not even true! And with that, Lauren would lie to him that she has never laid a hand on me… and he believed her!

I seriously can't take this. I really hate that stepmom of mines. I want to leave home.

But the problem is that I'm only sixteen years old. I cannot live alone by myself due to being a minor. I can't even find a job myself or continue my education. What someone would want to hire a small, beat-up hedgehog that looked like she was living on the dirt? And I dropped out of high school because I can't focus properly on my courses and I'm too scared to admit to any of my friends, teachers and the school counselors about what I'm going through. If any of them find out, Lauren would hurt me more. They might arrest her—I hope so—but they may also arrest my father for child negligence (and in case you're wondering, Daddy has been neglecting me as well). If both of them ended up in jail for who knows how long, I might end up in foster care.

There's no way I'm going to any foster home. There's no way I'm temporarily—or permanently, whichever comes first—staying in a home with a bunch of foster kids whom I don't even know. Every one of them would be terrible strangers to me. And what if they send me under custody of more abusive foster parents?

This is really something I do not want to happen… ever.

Right now, I'm in the bathroom, leaning my front body against the sink and staring straight at the mirror. My reflection is horrendous. There are dark circles underneath my eyes and countless bruises on my face from where Lauren had beaten me in the past. My pink quills are severely unkempt; my severe depression intervene me from washing myself properly. I sob at myself. I look so horrible, I want to die.

"Please, let it end. Let it end." I silently weep those words, almost into a prayer. I repeat it over again, "Please, let it end. Let it end." My voice breaks throughout the prayer.

Out of impetuousness, I grab a pair of metal scissors sitting on the corner of the sink. Then, out of both anger and sadness, I grab a lock of my quills, nearly tugging them from my scalp, and then I open the scissors over them. I snip them and then I repeat with the rest of my quills, one strand at a time. I listen to the sound of scissors snipping and I watch the locks of my quills raining down inside the sink. I keep on going and going until there is nothing left.

When I'm done, I drop the scissors on the floor, causing a loud clank sound. I stare at my reflection again. With more tears pouring down my hysterical eyes, I gaze at my new hair. It went from my waists to all the way up to my shoulders; it's now in some kind of an edgy pixie cut. I've learned somewhere that many girls, who were raped, brutally beaten or just going through a manic phase, cut their hair like this as some sort of way to cut off their horrid memories and then move on to their new change.

I still don't feel any changes yet, but hopefully in time, the past will go away and I can move on.

Getting the audacity I have, I quickly run into my room before Dad gets back from work and Lauren returns home from wherever she is. I open my closet, take out my backpack and start shoving my clothes and everything else I needed to carry for my runaway. When the pack is full, I zip them shut, struggling to close it due to its fullness. I put on a white T-shirt, a black hoodie, a pair of blue acid-wash jeans and then my white sneakers. I strap my pink and black backpack over my back and I leave my room.

Right before I leave the house, I sneak into Dad's and Lauren's room. I go into the vanity; sitting on top of it is Lauren's hinged wood box where she keeps all her money and several drugs she's been hiding from us. I open it. I disregard the pills and heroin inside and just take a handful of money that she probably made from selling them. Lauren has over hundreds of dollars in there. Without even counting them, I just take as much 20s and singles as I can and then stuff them into my pockets.

Now, with the clothes and necessities on my back and hopefully some enough cash to keep me alive, I run out of their bedroom. I run through the second-floor corridor, down the stairs and then to the front door.

Just when I was about to touch the doorknob, the door is already being unlocked by somebody from the outside. The door nearly hit my face when it opens and there she stood.

"Where do you think you're going, Amy Rose?" Lauren scolds at me. I stood silent, trying to fight off the upcoming fear. "And what the hell did you do to your hair?"

"It's none of your fucking business, Lauren!" I finally snarl at her. I can still feel the fear. "I don't need to tell you where I'm going!" I try to run pass through her, but she stop me, sending me back inside with so much force.

"Don't you talk back at me like that! That is not how you treat your mother! What would your father think about this?"

"You're not my mother! What kind of stepmother would beat me 24/7 and then lie to my dad?! It's really your fault that I'm going through hell for all these years!" I push her back and she retaliates again.

Our battle begins when Lauren drops her bag and then she pushes me hard until I fell back on the hardwood floor. She begins to tackle me and then punch me. Her hits and blows are so hard, I feel like that not only she's bruising my skin, she's also breaking my bones. My screams and cries are mixed with her screams full of harsh profanity.

"You little bitch!" Lauren shrieks at the top of her lungs.

Using all the strength I have, I get up and then push her out of the way. I shove her against the wall, causing the picture frames to clatter before they detach themselves from their nails and fall to the floor. The sounds of the frames breaking apart and its glass shattering are heard. When she gets down with her back still leaning against the wall, Lauren screams some more when I begin to impulsively hit her for retaliation. More screaming and cursing is audible.

Before I lose all of my energy, I get up from her and face back to run to the opened front door. I can feel Lauren crawling up to me in her own pace, "Get back here!" She grabs my ankle.

She pulls back, trying to get me to fall back on the floor again. Although, I'm lucky enough to kick her back before I hit my face down. She shrieks again when I kicked her, giving me enough time to run out before she catches me. Lauren sounds like she's in pain, but I don't even care about that anymore. She got what she deserved.

I finally made it to the doorway. I turn back to face Lauren for a mere moment to take one last look of her. I cry out to her, with full anger and sadness, "And just so you know, I'm leaving home! Tell Dad to don't bother looking for me because I'd rather die on the street than to be found and be neglected and beaten some more!" I wipe the tears out of my eyes and then turn back around.

I grabbed to door and slam it shut, without even saying goodbye to her. I'm not sure if what I said was true about me wanting to die on the street.

I ran down the concrete walkway all the way to the sidewalk. After only a few feet away, the door opens again.

"Good riddance to you, you little piece of shit!" Lauren shouts at me with mutual anger. I still didn't look back at her and I'm trying to ignore her. "I hope you die!" She slams the door shut.

I heard everything she said. Why would an adult like her call a child like that? That counts as child abuse.

I don't even care anymore. I just want to find a place to stay for a while. I just want to be away from Dad and Lauren.

I still don't know where I'm going albeit I hope I find a way. Just as long as I don't have to go back.

Even though my destination is still unknown, this is where my journey begins.