Prologue:

Tanned fingers curled around a plastic object, fingers digging into the dull blue-coated surface, fiddling with the buttons. The TV was on, images flickering dimly and casting small shadows over the otherwise unlit room. The volume was turned down low; an old French movie was playing, painted faces of the actors displayed up close on the screen.

Her eyes stared at the screen blankly, barely registering what was happening. She couldn't focus on it; she couldn't try to forget. Every time she tried to forget, it kept coming back to her over and over again, and each time, the force of it seemed to have been doubled. She wondered how long it would be until it pushed her off the edge.

Brown eyes moved to the front door, as if waiting for him. She half expected him to come striding in, swaying slightly like he always did when he was drunk. She could almost see it playing out in front of her. Him walking straight over to the couch she was lounging in, the acrid stench of alcohol lingering over his body as he started to talk nonsense. Nonsense which made her want to press both hands over her ears and just forget.

Forgetting was impossible, though. As long as he was here, she could never forget. Every time she thought that he had stopped, he'd start again, and it would be the same old story..

He was gone now though. He'd left a while ago, yelling profanities at her mother as he stomped out the door. A minute later, they'd heard the sound of the car screeching down the street. Her mother had retreated to her bedroom and hadn't reappeared since. Part of her wanted to go check on her, but another part of her -an undeniably selfish part- wanted to stay exactly where she was, and just wallow in her own mess of thoughts that she barely understood herself.

And so that was what she did. The movie was still playing, the characters chattering in a language that she only understood bits and pieces of. She tried pressing the remote control again, this time the power button. The light shut off, encasing the room in complete darkness. She glanced at her phone; the clock read 05:23 A.M. Still a lot of time until she had to get ready for school.

Pushing up off the couch, she let her phone light her way up the stairs. She ascended the steps slowly, sock-clad feet barely making a sound on the wooden stairs. She turned left on the landing, the tiny light from her phone fixed on her mother's door. Taking a step towards it, she bit her lip softly. There was no sound from within. Either her mother was asleep, or she simply didn't want to be disturbed. She had a distant feeling that it was the latter.

Turning around on the spot, she walked three doors down to her room and opened the door softly, padding inside and turning the light on. It cast a soft, yellow glow throughout the room, illuminating her messy room. Throwing aside the clothes on the ground, she rummaged around until she found her sneakers and put them on hastily, feet balanced against the window seat.

Tying the laces, she grabbed a sticky note from her desk, hastily scribbling down words on it, and then clipped her iPod to her shirt, popping in the earphones. Piece of paper in one hand, and wristwatch in the other, she retreated downstairs and turned on the lights. Walking over to the kitchen, she slapped the note against the refrigerator door, where she knew her mom would definitely see it when she bothered to come down.

Running her fingers through her dark hair, she pulled it up into a ponytail before putting on her wristwatch and heading outside the door. Cool air blasted against her from all sides, and she looked up to see the sun peeking out against the dark clouds, casting tiny lays of light against the dark backdrop of the outside.

Putting her iPod on shuffle, she started into a slow run, sneakers pressing lightly against the tarmac. Trees blew in the wind, their weighted branches groaning heavily as she passed by. None of the lights were on in any of the houses, as far as she could see. Not that she could blame them. Nobody was insane enough to be up at 5:30 in the morning. Excluding her family, of course.

She didn't know how long she kept jogging. She barely glanced at her wristwatch, and just focused on putting one foot in front of the other. Increasing her speed, she tried her utmost to not think, and to only concentrate on the feel of the breeze on her face -calm, and refreshing- and the small stitch in her stomach. Not think of home, or of her father.

For a few moments, it worked. For a while, she could only hear the sound of her own two feet on the tarmac, and the puffs of labored breathing leaving her nose.

And then her watch started to beep, and it all came crashing down.

Slowing to a stop, she sighed softly, looking around. The sun was starting to become more prominent in the sky, and the dark grey clouds that had been hovering when she'd left home were now beginning to be replaced by fluffy white ones.

It was six in the morning.

She took a moment to let out a breath, and glance around. Bending down and re-tying her shoelaces, she straightened up and pushed back her bangs. It was time to go home and get ready. School started in an hour and a half, and considering how long it would take her to get back, she'd have only an hour to get ready.

She started to head back, considerably slower than how she'd started off. The thought of going back home was not a pleasant one, considering there were six hours of torture awaiting her after seven thirty. But, she supposed, at least school would be better than staying at home.

It took her a little over half an hour to reach home. Before she stepped into the driveway, she looked over the little hedge lining their house to see whether the car was parked. A small sigh of relief brushed past her lips upon noticing that the car porch was empty. Only then did she walk into the house.

After showering and dressing, she tapped softly on her mother's door, backpack slung over her shoulder.

"Mom, I'm leaving."

There was no answer.

She sighed softly, and headed back downstairs. Closing her eyes for a few seconds, she took a deep breath before opening the door. This attitude wouldn't do in school, and the last thing she wanted was for people to notice how she was feeling and begin asking questions.

"You're fine. Now let's put a smile on that face," She forced her lips to stretch into a smile -albeit small- but still a smile.

The only sound was of the door closing shut, and then she was gone.