The Runaway
~Artemis Quinn Morgenstern

Author's Note:
Well hello there! Glad you could join me! Please, take a seat anywhere you like. This is my first Rocky Horror fic so please bear with me. I was listening to the movie soundtrack (like ya do when you work a corporate job like me and need something to occupy your mind) and this story just sorta came to me. So if it's horrid, I apologize. If even one person enjoys it, then it's a job well done on my part. So please review as you go along (or until the last updated chapter, whichever strikes your fancy) so I can hear your thoughts!

Disclaimer:
I own nothing except for Calicia (pronounced Kah-lee-she-ah) who is the product of my own mind. All other RHPS characters are the property of the brilliant mind that is Richard O'Brien...

Chapter One - On The Run

Snow fell from a grey sky as a young woman trudged down a deserted city street. Dressed head to toe in black, 19 year old Calicia Vigna pulled her jacket tighter as the cold December wind picked up. She had run away from home, again, and this time, she had no intention of ever being found. Her father was a drunk and her mother was no help, being too terrified of his temper to stand up to him when he used Calicia as his personal punching bag. She had dealt with it her whole life. Hell, she had even been put into foster care on multiple occasions. But her father always managed to get her back. Always.

Now, after being on the run for three days, Calicia found herself walking down an empty street next to the woods of Denton, Ohio. She had no idea where she was going, as long as it was far away from her broken home. As she walked, Calicia began to have the feeling someone was following her. She reached into the back right pocket of her black jeans and pulled out her switchblade. Looking back over her shoulder, she saw that she was indeed being followed. And of all people to be following her, it was her father.

"Calicia!" His voice was sharp, clear. He was actually sober.

"How did you find me?"

"Been followin' you in the truck since you left. But I knew it would make too much noise if I got too close, so I've been walkin' with ya the past 5 miles." He was walking closer now. Calicia wanted to run, but knew if she didn't do something, her father would just catch her and take her back to that hell. And that was the one thing she refused to do.

"Come on. It's time to go home."

"No."

"What did you say?" He was five feet away now and closing in on the un-moving Calicia.

"I said no. I'm not going home."

"Like hell you're not." Three feet separated them now. With a flick of her wrist, the razor sharp blade of her switchblade was exposed to the winter air. Calicia's father stopped dead in his tracks, eyeing the blade.

"Put that thing away, Calicia, before you hurt yourself."

"It's not me you should be worried about." Calicia's hand was steady as a rock as she raised the knife and pointed it at her father.

"I'm not going home. I'm not going to be your punching bag anymore. Now back off before you get hurt."

"You wouldn't swing on your own father."

"Try me." Yes, it was a challenge and yes, she shouldn't have said it, but she did. Her father lunged forward, in an attempt to get the knife away from her, but at the same time, Calicia swung the knife, slicing a clean line down her father's left forearm.

"Bitch!" Calicia's father lashed out and backhanded his daughter across the face. Reeling from the blow, Calicia put the back of her he left hand to her mouth and it came away stained with the red of her blood. Anger filled Calicia's mind and she struck out again, this time slashing her father's left cheek. As he put his hand up to the fresh wound, Calicia kicked him in the stomach. Her father collapsed onto the street and she turned and raced head long into the woods, her father's curses echoing after her.