Disclaimer: This isn't mine. I'm only making this up from what I know from the show! Don't sue, you know it'll come to no good!
Author's Note: Well, here's another one of my stories. It's definitely not as sappy as the other one (Perfect Love in an Imperfect World). So I'm not trying to kill you all by means of sappiness and silliness! LOL Oh, I'm writing this in the first person, from Shelby's point of view, because it's easier to write, and it makes it more interesting, I think. Well, enjoy, and don't forget to review, just no flaming garbage, please!
I arrived in the motel that we'd been staying at for a while now. I had just come back from work, as we called it. Everything was all over the place, some things were even broken, smashed to bits. Amazingly enough, this didn't bother me anymore. I'd been coming "home" to this same scene for a week or two, now.
She always did this. It had become routine by now. She went to work and, on her way home, spent all her "hard-earned" money. It was always all spent on her cocaine fix of the day. Because of her addiction, I had to make the money for both of our food and board.
"What do you think you're doing?" I yelled one day, returning in the late morning. It was 11, and she was already high beyond the point of no return. "You're going to OD, if you're not careful," I said as I put my bag down and went to change into my sweats. It had been a long night, and I desperately wanted some sleep. When I came back from the bathroom, she was passed out, or at least, that's what I thought. I went to carry her over to her bed when I screamed. Her eyes were open! I quickly checked her pulse and breath... none! I didn't know CPR, what was I to do? I panicked. I picked up the phone, about to call the ambulance when I heard sirens.
Sirens... police. Police... missing persons. Missing persons... me. Me... mom! Damn it! I knew my mom had told the police about me running. She had to make herself feel good in knowing she at least did SOMETHING. The police had been looking for me for a little under a year, now. They must've finally put pieces together.
I was about to run, when I remembered something Patty had told me when we first met: "If I die on the streets, like this, I want to be a Jane Doe. I don't want my parents to see me like this! As much as I hate them, I still have my pride." It was the least I could do.
I started running around the motel room, picking up my bag and stuffing it with anything they could use to trace her identity: ID's, money, clothes, letters, pictures, even receipts.
Suddenly, I heard a knock on the door. I grabbed my coat and was out the window on the other side of the room as the door opened. I was gone! I was still free!
Author's Note: Well, here's another one of my stories. It's definitely not as sappy as the other one (Perfect Love in an Imperfect World). So I'm not trying to kill you all by means of sappiness and silliness! LOL Oh, I'm writing this in the first person, from Shelby's point of view, because it's easier to write, and it makes it more interesting, I think. Well, enjoy, and don't forget to review, just no flaming garbage, please!
I arrived in the motel that we'd been staying at for a while now. I had just come back from work, as we called it. Everything was all over the place, some things were even broken, smashed to bits. Amazingly enough, this didn't bother me anymore. I'd been coming "home" to this same scene for a week or two, now.
She always did this. It had become routine by now. She went to work and, on her way home, spent all her "hard-earned" money. It was always all spent on her cocaine fix of the day. Because of her addiction, I had to make the money for both of our food and board.
"What do you think you're doing?" I yelled one day, returning in the late morning. It was 11, and she was already high beyond the point of no return. "You're going to OD, if you're not careful," I said as I put my bag down and went to change into my sweats. It had been a long night, and I desperately wanted some sleep. When I came back from the bathroom, she was passed out, or at least, that's what I thought. I went to carry her over to her bed when I screamed. Her eyes were open! I quickly checked her pulse and breath... none! I didn't know CPR, what was I to do? I panicked. I picked up the phone, about to call the ambulance when I heard sirens.
Sirens... police. Police... missing persons. Missing persons... me. Me... mom! Damn it! I knew my mom had told the police about me running. She had to make herself feel good in knowing she at least did SOMETHING. The police had been looking for me for a little under a year, now. They must've finally put pieces together.
I was about to run, when I remembered something Patty had told me when we first met: "If I die on the streets, like this, I want to be a Jane Doe. I don't want my parents to see me like this! As much as I hate them, I still have my pride." It was the least I could do.
I started running around the motel room, picking up my bag and stuffing it with anything they could use to trace her identity: ID's, money, clothes, letters, pictures, even receipts.
Suddenly, I heard a knock on the door. I grabbed my coat and was out the window on the other side of the room as the door opened. I was gone! I was still free!