((A/N: Mmkay, I dunno if this will be the second to last chapter or what. I could end it JUST before she goes to Silent Hill... or, I could continue, and write her journey through Silent Hill and end at the burning staircase. Any preferences? Review! Like Triple-Question-Mark Lady. She's awesome, y'all aren't as rad as she is. xP))

She was leaving tonight.

It was past midnight and the house was eerily quiet. A half-full backpack lay open on her bed as she flung supplies into it haphazardly- clothes, food, money. She couldn't stay any longer. She couldn't look at him without feeling sick, she couldn't think about that night without shaking with revulsion. She couldn't stand it anymore, and she was going to leave.

It would enrage him, she was sure. She'd never even considered it before; the consequences that would follow were too frightening to think of. Now, she had no choice. She was terrified he would catch her- her mouth was dry; her heart was beating twice as fast; adrenalin pumped through her veins. But she didn't let that sway her, even though her instincts were screaming at her to stop being ridiculous and unpack and stay where it was relatively safe. No, she was going to leave. She was going to run away and leave him and all of this behind.

She knew where she was going, too. She was going to find mama. She'd left a while ago, she'd done the same thing Angela was planning- she'd run away from him and his violence. She'd told Angela she was going to Silent Hill with tears in her eyes before she'd fled. Angela had found a map and figured out where that was. It wasn't far; she could get there within a day or two on foot. And if mama wouldn't take her, she'd go to her big brother, Joseph. Angela didn't know where he lived, but she knew mama did and she would ask her. And if he wouldn't take her, she'd live on the streets, she didn't care where she went as long as she didn't need to live here with him anymore.

She'd finished packing, zipping up the bag quietly and slinging it over her shoulders. She grabbed a jacket from her closet and slipped downstairs, sneaking past the living room. The television was on but the sound was off, pictures flashed past and lit the room an eerie blue. She shivered as she saw him, sleeping in his armchair as usual with an empty bottle in his hand. She stepped past as quietly as she could, hardly even breathing as she made her way to the front door. Pulling the screen door open and carefully unlocking the outer door, she made sure to close both silently so as not to alert him. She took a deep breath once she was outside, waiting for her nervous trembling to subside. Glancing around the area, she set off at a swift trot, hoping that by dawn she'd be far enough away to finally relax…

Sometime around noon, Thomas Orosco awoke from his alcohol-induced slumber. He groaned and pressed a hand to his head, trying to soothe the pounding headache that usually accompanied such overindulgence. When the pain didn't subside after about a minute, he yelled "ANGELA! Get me some fuckin' aspirin!"

There was no response.

He growled irritably- it was a Sunday and there was no school. She should be well awake by now. "You lazy bitch, GET UP and bring me some aspirin!" He roared in the direction of the stairs. He waited a moment before lumbering to his feet and stomping upstairs, muttering to himself and clenching his fists as he threw open her door, ready to teach her not to be lazy-

And there was no one there. It took him a moment to realize this, he just couldn't comprehend that she wasn't in the house. "Angela, I swear to God if you don't get in here RIGHT NOW…" he threatened to empty air, eyes narrowed. He eventually had to accept the fact that she was gone. She would have scurried in by now, apologizing and cringing and waiting for his orders, hoping not to be hit. "Son of a bitch," he murmured, before grabbing his keys from the table by the front door and making his way to the old, rusted blue Chevrolet truck he called his own.

1:30 PM. Angela was resting at a bus shelter, waiting alone for a bus that would hopefully take her to her destination. She had enough money for the trip, she was sure of it. She was going to escape. She had tentatively begun to hope for the best a few hours after she'd left, when she accepted that the sky was not going to come crashing down on her for being an unfaithful daughter. Right now, she was almost… happy. It was something she hadn't experienced for quite some time. Relief, yes- but true happiness had eluded her for almost five years.

Until the horribly familiar sound of the Chevrolet shattered it, she had almost smiled.

No… no no no oh god please no please let it not be him please god please please oh please it can't be I don't want to go back no no no oh god please…

She forced herself to look towards the sound despite how much as she wanted to ignore it, pretend it wasn't there, wish it away. The truck pulled up in front of her and she cringed as she heard his voice tell her in a low, very dangerously calm voice, "Angela, get in the car."

"No…" she breathed, almost inaudible. She hadn't disagreed with him in so long… His eyes hardened and she felt herself shudder involuntarily.

"What did you say to me?"

"No, I… I w-won't."

"Don't make me force you, Angela. Get. In. The. Car."

She shook her head, eyes pleading silently for mercy. She couldn't speak; even that weak rebellion had drained her. She wasn't used to standing up for herself. There was a long silence before she heard the driver's side door open. He pulled himself up and walked calmly around the car to stand in front of her, impossibly tall as he blocked out the sunlight…

"Angela, stand up," he told her in that cool, collected, horrible voice.

She didn't want to, she wanted to resist, she wanted to run, she could outrun him if she tried, he was older, larger, slower, she was quick she could make it I can make it I CAN MAKE IT GO

And she stood robotically, years of conditioning forcing her to move like his puppet. The slightest smile flickered across his face.

"That's my good little girl. Now get in the car. Front seat."

She obeyed silently, beginning to shake as a crushing sense of foreboding settled around her. He climbed into the driver's side, shutting the door gently and putting on his seat belt (something he hardly ever did). "Buckle up, Angela." Immediately her hand flew to the belt and she strapped herself in. She stared blankly though the windshield, trying not to think about anything, especially what would happen at home. Surprisingly, the drive back was silent. She'd expected explosive rage, flaring up as soon as he'd found her. Apparently he was saving it for later.

She wanted to scream. She wanted to roll down her window and try to flag down a passerby, or jump out and run, or grab the wheel and send them careening into a tree… anything, so long as it kept her away from him. But no, she couldn't. Her frozen muscles refused to react. He'd caught her. He'd found her and he was bringing her back and there was nothing she could do but obey because when they got home…

The innocently painted white front door sent her stomach into knots. He parked carefully and opened the door, saying quietly "Get out and go inside, Angela." She nodded stiffly and stepped out of the car, slowly ascending the front steps. He followed close behind, holding open the door and waiting for her to enter the house. He pulled her backpack from her shoulders as they stepped inside and set it on the floor.

The door shut with a soft click, barring her way to freedom once again. She was visibly shaking now, unable to keep herself calm or even hide her fear. He turned to face her slowly, painfully slowly before he finally stood watching her impassively. His eyes were flat and unmerciful. There was a long, uncomfortable silence.

Finally she couldn't stand the tension, she knew she'd only drag it out by staying silent. "Daddy, I--"

His eyes flared and he lunged forwards, grabbing her by the collar and dragging her towards him. "What did you think you were doing, you worthless brat!" He snarled, shaking her roughly. "Where were you going to run to, your whore of a mother? Am I not good enough for you!"

"No!" She cried, shaking her head frantically, trying to quell his rage. "Daddy, please, I--"

"You spoiled bitch, you think you're above me, don't you!" He hissed, glaring hatefully at her. "You think you're too good for this life, huh?" He spun around and slammed her into the door. "Little princess, right!" He spat venomously.

"Daddy-"

"SHUT UP!" He balled up his right arm and she only had a second to brace herself before he punched her in the face. His fist came away bloody as her head snapped back and struck the door. "Don't you dare interrupt me!" He struck her again in the stomach before dropping her callously to the floor. She gasped weakly and tried to catch her breath, but he kicked her hard in the ribs and sent her sprawling. Unable to resist at this point, she quickly curled into a ball and protected her head as he kicked her again.

"Don't you EVER try to run away again, you hear!"

"Y-yes," came the choking, whispery answer from the shaking ball on the floor.

"DO YOU FUCKING HEAR ME, ANGELA!" He roared, grabbing her and hauling her to her feet.

"Yes, daddy!" She yelped, tears filling her eyes. This seemed to enrage him even further and he backhanded her sharply across the face, hissing, "Stop crying!"

i'm trying i'm trying please don't hurt me anymore daddy i'm trying

"Stop your crying, you spiteful bitch!"

"Daddy-"

I love you daddy do you hate me do you love me love full of hate stop hurting me

"Stop!"

"Please-"

hate fear venom pain misery agony yes stop it stop stop stop the bastard stop him

"STOP IT!"

"YOU STOP IT!" She shrieked, an anger flaring up in her that she'd never known. She seized his hand before it struck her again, and glared straight at him, unwavering and unblinking. He was completely dumbstruck for a moment, staring at her in awe and staying completely still.

Alas, all good things must come to an end. His eyes slowly narrowed to slits and he lowered his hand. "What did you just say to me, Angela?"

oh you've done it now you are a terrible daughter no wonder he hates you

Her own rage faded away, leaving her with a deep feeling of dread.

you've been bad yes bad girl bad girl you deserve this

"I'm going to have to punish you, aren't I?" He said quietly, looking at her pointedly. Her eyes widened and she shook her head, disbelieving, beginning to shiver.

"Daddy… please don't…"

Bad girl bad girl you deserve this you deserve everything you are nothing

He hit her until she bled, until she was barely conscious, he hurt her until she could no longer move and she was too weak, too hurt to stop him when he grasped her sweater and jeans

you are a mistake he does not love you and you deserve it you are tainted

And it was so much worse than when he hit her

Hate pain misery princess of rot

And she tried to scream but she couldn't make a sound

Love full of hate

And she slept on the floor that night and for many nights after.

((A/N: When I had a friend of mine read through all of these, she cringed practically every other page and periodically commmented on how Thomas is a sick and horrible human piece of filth, and how hard this was to read because of the emotional bits. She got so into it that towards the end of this chapter, she had to put it down and yell in anger that Angela doesn't get away this time.
I win at fanfic! -cheers and dances- :D))