Ever noticed how rain seems to pour down in sheets, but just as soon as it comes it's gone?
That's me. I'm like a leaf in the wind. Here one second, gone the next. All stories have a good
ending, right? Try so far from 'good' calling it that abused word would be an insult. I am not 'Good'
I am not 'Well'. I'm a fiend. Wait, I'm getting to far ahead of myself. Let me start from the beginning.
My name is Amaya Jane Williams. I am 13 years old, and I'm now on a run through hell.
12:00. Usually everyone's asleep by then. Everyone except for a raven haired teen. She slides off of her bed, expertly not making a single creek and starts to tiptoe around her room, getting necessities like her iPod, her clothes, medicine, etc. Tonight's the night.
She can't take it anymore. The bruises are harder and harder to hide, and the teachers smell the alcohol her father loves so much on her clothes, and think it's her. She's been nearly arrested more times than she can count, and been taken away to the hospital; at her teachers ask for drug tests. Her mother is dead because of the monster in the room across. Her face twists into a scowl as she hears his accursed snoring and she straightens up from where she was kneeling at her bedside, moving on around the room to do a quick check. Everything seems in place until one thing catches her eye. A photo.
She crosses the room and picks the frame up. A woman, a ten-year old, a man. A family. A smile finds its way to her lips as she remembers. It was 2020, her parents had taken her to her favorite amusement park. She puts the picture in the softest part of her suitcase she can find and zips it up, making no sounds. She picks up her suitcase and climbs into the windowsill. The day before, while her father was at work ((It's surprising he has a job really.)) she snuck a mattress right below her window outside.
Slowly, she eases the suitcase out the two-story window and it lands with a soft thud, loud enough so it can be heard but soft enough not to wake anyone up. She goes into the window and slips her legs through, and is about to jump until she hears a light sniffing noise. "Oh right, how could I have forgotten," she whispers, "Come here Lucy." The miniature schnauzer jumps into her lap and she wraps her arms around it, then takes one look back at her old room. Tears threaten to spill as she remembers all the times her mother sat on that bed and stroked her hair after her father had beaten her to where she could barely move.
"It's OK, momma's here for you." Amaya remembers her mother's voice, as soft and sweet as honey. Her smile saddens as she remembers her last words to her mother. "I promise mom. I won't let you down." and she slides off the window, grabs her case and runs into the night.