Never look back and don't ever go back, if you want to live.
This is what I taught myself exactly one year, four months,
and nine days ago. I've taught myself a lot of stuff, but this is
the most important .Everyday I live in fear of him coming to
get me to take me back, and every day I wake up screaming
from the memories.
*panting* sweat trickled down my face. It was just a dream.
"At least I didn't wake up screaming today" I said to myself.
"Yea. The first time in a month, you seem to be doing better. " Said John hearing me as he walked into the bedroom.
"The dreams aren't getting better. Neither am I. I just wake up before I scream." I replied tiredly. "I wish I didn't dream when I go to sleep"
"I wish you didn't scream when you wake up, but you don't always get what you want."
"Ha-ha."
"I never said it was funny."
"Neither did I."
"You laughed."
"Your point?"
"You thought it was funny."
"But I never said it was funny."
"You implied it."
"So?"
"Never mind."
"One for Ro. Zero for John."
He just laughed and shook his head. "You are so weird Rose." He said.
"Am not and don't call me Rose. It's a girly name." I said indignantly. Which made him laugh even harder. "Just shut-up." I said.
"Make me."
"I will."
"Will not."
"Hide and watch."
John made a funny face at me, and I finally gave in and laughed. "What's the score now?" He asked laughing "One for Ro and one for John?"
"Don't rub it in."
"Wouldn't think of it."
"Of course not."
"Hurry up and get ready for school. I don't want you late again."
"Do I have to go to school? There's no point we'll move soon anyway."
"Yes, no arguing. Just because we're on the run doesn't mean you don't have to go to school."
"But –"
"I said no arguing," replied John giving me a stern look.
I reluctantly got ready and left. On the way to school I thought about skipping. Then decided not to, life was hard enough with out John mad at me.
The school bell interrupted my thoughts and I realized I was late. John's going to kill me I thought. Might as well skip. So I did.
I had been wandering for a few hours, in and out of alleys, looking for good hiding spots. When I saw John walking down the road. I dove back in to the alley and behind a trashcan, praying John hadn't seen me.
When he walked past I breathed a sigh of relief. After waiting a few minutes to make sure the coast was clear, I stood up. The monet I stood up a hand gripped my shoulder. "Why aren't you at school?" asked a voice cold as ice, and hard as steel.
John.
He spun me around to face him. His face was murder. I was in big, no not big, enormous trouble. "You disobeyed me." He said in a strained voice, obviously trying to control his anger.
"Yea, about that." I said "I was late and—"
"No excuses." Said John holding up his hand. He took my arm, led me to the truck, and told me to get in.
"John," I began nervously as we drove.
"Don't say a single word Rose." Said John.
"But—"
"I don't want to hear anything you have to say right now Rose Ann Roberts!" John yelled. The drive home was silent and uncomfortable.
When we got home I sat at the kitchen table but John just paced around the room. After a few minutes of silence John stopped pacing and looked at me. "What am I going to do with you?" he asked.
"Look I'm sorry."
"Being sorry doesn't change the fact that you skipped school. That you disobeyed me." He shouted.
"It doesn't matter."
"It doesn't matter? It does matter. School matters. Obeying me matters."
"No it doesn't. School is stupid. All they teach at school is crap, and you would know that if you stopped acting like a stupid freaking retard!" I shouted jumping to my feet and pushing him. Then like someone turned on a vacuum inside me all my rage and anger left me, as I realized what I had said and done. My eyes dropped to the floor no longer able to meet his. "I-I-"
SLAP!
I hit the wall from the sheer force of the slap. I slid to the ground as John walked towards me. When he was in front of me he crouched down. "Look at me." He said. I forced myself to look him in the eyes. "Don't you dare talk or act like that to me ever again? Understand?"
"Y-y-yes sir." I stammered.
"Good." He stood up, got some paper, pencils, and the laptop and set them on the kitchen table. He picked up the chair I knocked over, and set it up right. "Get up and come over here and sit down." He said gesturing towards the spot he had set up. I picked myself up off the ground, walked over there, and sat down. "Since you think that all they teach at school is crap. You can write a thousand word essay about what you think they should teach at school."
"What! Why?"
"Because I said so, and it has to be done by eight tonight."
"But it's one thirty."
"Then you should have plenty of time," said John. Then he picked his book up off the table, sat down on the couch, and began to read. He looked up about five minutes later, and seeing I hadn't written a thing he said, "Start writing. Time waits for nobody you know." and went back to reading.
What am I going to do? I thought. I suck at writing. What am I going to write about? After thinking some more I decided to draw pictures. I drew for a few hours till dinnertime when John handed me a sandwich and a glass of water.
What am I going to do about the essay? I thought after eating. Maybe John won't ask for it. I thought and began to relax. I started to draw again. I drew picture after picture, and before I knew it. It was eight o'clock. At 8:02 John put down his book, walked over to the kitchen table, and sat down across from me. "Let me see the essay." John said holding out his hand.
"Ummmmm," I said. "I didn't do it."
"What do you mean you didn't do it? If you didn't do it what have you been doing for the past six and a half hours?" Asked John raising his voice. He grabbed the stack of pictures I had drawn, and began to look at them. "Pictures? You drew pictures for six and a half hours?" John shouted.
"You know I'm not good at writing and I couldn't focus." I said looking at the floor. When I looked up John looked like he wanted to hit me again. The silence was overwhelming but I knew better then to talk when John was like this. The silence went on for a few more seconds till John sighed and rubbed his temples.
"Just go to bed." He said to me. I got up, grabbed some pajamas, and went into the bathroom. As I changed I saw the bruise forming on my cheek and hpoed it wouldn't be there in the morning. I brushed my teeth, got into my sleeping bag on the floor in the bedroom, and just lied there. After a few minutes I heard the front door shut and the car start. You're probably wondering why I'm sleeping on the floor in a sleeping bag. The answer is that there isn't a bed. Why there isn't a bed I don't know.
Since I have nothing better to do I might as well tell you about John and me. Starting from the beginning, before John and I got here. First things first, my full name is Rose (Ro for short) Ann Roberts. I'm eleven years, four months, and nine days old right now. It'll be ten days in the morning. I have a really long brown braid that ends below my waist, blue eyes, and I'm four foot nine. John's full name is John Peter Roberts. He is twenty-one years, five months, and nine days old right now. He's ten years and one month older then me, and he's my older brother. He has brown hair and blue eyes like me and is five foot eleven. We've been on the run since my tenth birthday. In some ways I'm glad we ran, but I was sad to leave my friends.
I never had a mother, she died when I was born, and Daddy hated me because of it. He blamed me for her death, and everything that went wrong after her death. I could clearly see he wished I had died instead whenever I looked in his eyes. John told me there used to be love in his eyes, but now there's only hatred, anger, and rage. Life was far from great. In fact life was terrible, but somehow I kept waking up every the morning and moving on. There were days Daddy ignored me and days I could barely stand when he was through with me.
John taught me to never give up, and to hold on to what I had. He taught me how to fight, gymnastics, to always have hope even when nobody else does, and how to stay strong even when I was to weak to stand. I learned skills normal people never dreamed of learning. I know the true meaning of being hungry, what it means to be scared, and what pain is.
So here we are now. In a small house with only one bathroom, a kitchen, a living room, and one bedroom with no bed. We rented the house since we can only stay in one place for so long. We're always moving, never looking back just running from a past that never leaves our minds. If you're constantly on the run you need to learn to follow orders. I'm constantly on the run, so I should be good at following orders, right? Wrong. I could excel at the hardest thing in the world, but for some reason I can't follow orders. I guess that's just the way I roll. The end.
I close my eyes and fall into a dreamless sleep for the first time ever.