Scared. That's all I've ever been. The only way I've ever lived my life. I would have given anything to live a life free of fear. Which is why when he,my father, came home so fully drowned in the bottle, I ran. I saw him beat my mother, and then my sister who she was giving a bath. I blame myself for their pain and suffering. But then again…I blame my mother for staying with that horrible man. I should have warned them. Told them that he was on his way home and it wouldn't be pretty. But what did I do? I ran like the coward I was. Could you blame me though? I was fifteen and didn't know what else to do. I had been a victim of an abusive father and a mother who was so scared of the man herself she didn't dare say anything against him. Instead she hid her bruises and those of me and my sister with makeup as best she could. But I was done with being afraid so I willed my feet to the police station. I told them about how my father, Steven Stone, had hit my mother and sister, and how he had been hurting me since I could remember. At first I think they thought I was making it up until I showed them the bruise on my side where he had thrown me against the table and my side had caught the blow. The officers I had told my story to began talking in hushed tones and then they turned to me and told me they were going to look into these accusations by going to my house and talking to my family. I could already picture the conversation in my head. The officers would tell my parents what I had told them, my father would deny the claim and my mother would solemnly agree with him hoping the bruises she had just received wouldn't be noticeable. My father would be furious at me. I couldn't go home. Not now. Not ever. In the end I nodded my head at the officers as they left. At that point in time all I could think is that if I went home I would surely die. I felt horrible about leaving my sister alone to bear the horrible life she was listening. Maybe one day I could go back and get her; giving that she lived through the fights and the drunken rages of my father. So as I contemplated this I did the only thing I could think of. I opened the door of the station and slipped out into the dark night…
I didn't know where I was going or where I would end up until I stopped in front of Irving Hall. I was exhausted and didn't know where else to go, so I slipped into the side door and ran into a figure. As I glanced up to see what I had bumped into I noticed it was a very pretty redheaded lady.
"Well, what do we have here?" she said.
"I-I-I'm sorry ma'am." I stammered.