Chapter 1
I was going to have to leave soon, I had to. They didn't want me to stay, and I sure as hell was going to reject that offer. I hated my parents. They were terrible. They were the reason I looked the way I did, the reason why I felt the way I did. My parents were the reason that I had started cutting. I didn't like the numbness of everything, so I just felt pain. Pain was better than nothing. Then I drove them to drugs and alcohol, not to mention the constant clubbing and bar-going. Though rehab had cured them at first, they got back into drinking at least a week after they returned home. It was all my fault. Though I was lucky and very grateful that they weren't abusive. Well, at least not physically.
My parents had really gotten into drinking. And when they drank, they went over the top. They were vicious drinkers. They would come home and just start yelling. Whenever I had a guy over, my mother would send him home and then continuously call me a slut or a whore and then shut me out for the rest of the week. They ignored me and didn't care, so I ended up raising myself. It was a hard life, and I had completely lost all respect for both of them. I don't even refer to them as mom and dad even more. Now they're Connie and Edward Torres. My name is Michella Torres, and I'm a 17-year-old runaway. I have spent the last year thinking about where I was going and mapping my route. I lived in Santa Cruz, California so I figured maybe San Fran was the way to go.
I began cutting in my freshman year of high school when I was 15. I stopped when I was I was almost 17. But I occasionally bring a razor to my wrist, just to get that adrenaline rush through my body again. I was a figure of untreated depression and I needed help. Though I didn't want to admit it, I needed it. But I was going to get help, because San Francisco was my cure. When I thought about my soon-to-be life in San Fran, I found myself smiling, glad I made this decision. I was off at midnight. My flight boarded and left around 1 am. Now, I was sitting on my comforter, my eyes glued to the map in front of me.
I sighed and hopped off of my bed and started packing. I packed the basics; clothes, hygienic needs, the usual. I waltzed over to my bedside table and pulled about $2,000 out of the drawer. I had been saving up since I made this plan in sophomore year. Waiting tables at the local Applebee's was good money. And not to mention the perfect getaway. I grinned at the wad of cash and stuffed it into the top of my suitcase. The clock by my bed read 8:34 pm. I sighed in bliss.
"Finally," I purred. "I'm out of this rat hole of a town." I flung myself back onto my bed and fell asleep, awaiting the hour of destiny.
A/N: I know it's short, but I'll update soon and frequently. Tell me what you think and if I should continue! :) Reviews rule!