Annabelle felt high as a kite and twice as light by the time she heard footsteps coming up the stairs. It was a familiar feeling. She'd started smoking grass in high school after being turned onto it by Eddie Smith, a Soc boy who'd taken a liking to her. Even after turning him down, she continued to buy from him because he got the good stuff straight from the East side. She'd have gone even crazier by now without it.

She lay on her bed with a far-off gleam in her eye. The mattress was so soft, so comfortable, like a cloud. Peace covered her like a warm blanket, and a lazy grin played at her lips. Annabelle knew what was coming. Oh yes, she knew alright. She knew the whole world was about to be torn to bits, and while fear tugged on her insides, she was too far removed from her body to do anything about it. She might as well just enjoy the peace before her bedroom door swung open. The footsteps were getting closer. Time was almost up.

"Annabelle Claudine Wagner!" Judy screeched as she saw the long tendrils of dark brown hair on the floor.

The girl stared back blankly, too afraid to respond but too drugged out to bend to her mother's will. She just laid there, ambivalent and ready to accept her fate. She didn't care if Judy locked her in her bedroom until all her hair grew back. It's not as if she'd miss anyone or anything outside anyway.

"What is the matter with you?! Annabelle, say something! What is wrong with you?!" the woman shook her daughter by the shoulders violently.

"Stop. You're hurting me," came the alarmed response. Being handled so roughly had shocked her back to reality a bit.

"Oh, your hair! Your beautiful hair!"

Annabelle was numb save for the sharp pain of her mother's fingernails digging into her arms. Fingernails shouldn't hurt that bad, should they?

"Let go," she said, voice getting louder as she wrestled out of Judy's grip. She had to get out.

Her mother followed just behind her as she trudged down the stairs, feeling suffocated by the big house with the big staircase and the big living room. She blew past her father, who sat in his big armchair, reading the paper as he always did. She walked straight through to the big kitchen. Everything was so god damn big it made her sick. All the while, the dainty yet frantic footsteps of Judy Wagner pursued her.

"Annabelle, please just tell me why you're doing this! Edward! Look what your daughter has done to herself!"

Her father dropped the paper in shock as he glimpsed the hack job that was Annabelle's hair. Without leaving his seat, his stern voice rung out. "Why would you go and do a thing like that? I thought we were through with all this. Just stop with the hysterics so we can have a nice dinner together."

His words were met with silence, the pregnant kind of silence that hangs in the air and lets you know that something is about to go wrong. Edward Wagner didn't care much for silence. He never tolerated going unnoticed, certainly not by his wife or his daughter.

"Annabelle? Annabelle!" He briskly stood up and made his way to the kitchen. There the girl stood with her back to her mother, staring at the ornate wooden china cabinet. Judy waited nervously, watching for her daughter's next move.

"How much did those plates cost? The ones you keep in there." Annabelle walked forward slowly, heart pounding, bones aching. Opening the cabinet with caution, she ran her fingers along the dozen or so china plates.

"Those are-"

"For special occasions, I know. We haven't had one special enough, though. We've never used these plates. We don't look at them. We don't touch them. Don't you ever get tired of having plates you don't ever use?" Gingerly, she pulled a stack out of the cabinet, setting them down on the countertop.

"Just answer my question. Why are you doing this?" She could hear the desperation in her mother's voice, and for a second, her heart twinged. In her own overbearing way, Judy really did care for her, but it would never be enough.

"I'm tired. Aren't you tired?"

With trembling hands, Annabelle picked up a plate before throwing it to the floor with all her might. Her mother yelped, and her father stiffened, but Annabelle just breathed. The air came to her easier than it had in ages. Her head buzzed, both from the weed and the rush of smashing the china. She grabbed that feeling and held it tight as she reached for a second plate.

"Annabelle, don't you dare!" Judy demanded, though her voice trembled.

In an instant, another plate was gone, and Annabelle could feel a weight being lifted from her. She smashed another and was about to reach for a fourth before her mother rushed forward and grabbed her by the wrists.

"Let go!" she yelled frantically. "Let go of me!" The girl thrashed around in a desperate effort to break free. Then, in a final attempt, she threw all her weight forward, pushing her mother to the glass-covered floor and freeing herself from the woman's grip.

"Stop it! That's enough! Edward, call an ambulance now!"

The words pierced her like shards of glass. Annabelle's blood went cold as her father retreated to the living room to make the call. "No! No!"

"I don't know what else to do! This isn't right!" came the hopeless reply.

"Look at me!" the girl screeched. "Look at me! Don't just sweep me under the rug and pawn me off! Look! You did this!"

She was truly hysterical now, and the fear in her mother's tear-filled eyes was undeniable. Of course she would be afraid of the very monster she created. What a fucking hypocrite.

They just stared at each other for a while, both crying, both silent. The tension was palpable, and Annabelle's whole body shook as she thought of what her parents were trying to do to her.

"I'm not going back." Her voice was tight, thick with tears, and barely above a whisper. "I won't."

Judy cast her eyes downward as she struggled to gain her composure. That pregnant silence was back again. "Go clean yourself up before they arrive," she replied, struggling to keep her voice steady. She gave her daughter one long look before letting out a stifled sob and rushing to her husband in the living room.

Annabelle walked past her distraught parents as they hung up the phone. Her mind was racing, but the world was moving slow. As she made her way up the stairs, she heard her mother's voice, clear as day.

"I never would have wanted a second child if I knew she was going to end up exactly like my mother."

What was that supposed to mean, "exactly like my mother"? What was so bad about that? What was so bad about listening to music too loud and laughing and being free? If there was one thing Annabelle knew the value of, it was freedom. She'd spent her whole life having it taken away from her, and she would not stand by and let her parents or some paramedic or anyone take it from her now. She could not go back to that fucking hospital. She refused to go back.

Annabelle made a beeline for her closet as soon as she reached her room, fishing around until she retrieved the pristine leather suitcase from the corner. Once she looked around at her belongings, though, she realized there wasn't much of anything she'd want to take. All of it had been chosen for her. With uneasiness knotting her stomach, the girl grabbed her records and gently placed them in the bag. Next, she reached under her mattress, pulled out her joints and matches, and tossed them in as well. With a hesitant sense of finality, Annabelle closed the suitcase and walked to her vanity. She opened the drawer, grabbed all of the allowance money she had saved up, and shoved it in her dress pocket. Finally, she put on her oxfords and braced her nerves.

It hadn't even been two hours since she opened it last, but as Annabelle opened her window for the second time that day, she felt as though it was a distant memory. She peered out onto the street below to make sure there was no ambulance in sight before climbing out onto the roof, suitcase in hand. It was already dark, and the cool November air nipped at her. Pulling her sweater tighter around her, she crawled over to the edge of the roof where a trellis rose up to meet it. She trembled, partly from cold and partly from fear of being caught, as she began to climb down. The trellis was sturdy as the rungs of a ladder, and before Annabelle knew it, her feet were firmly on the ground.

For a moment, she stood paralyzed. All she'd ever wanted was to get away from her picture perfect life on the West side of Tulsa, so why did she feel unsure about leaving now? Standing there in the dark of night, she couldn't recall ever feeling more afraid. Still, whatever was waiting out there had to be better than life in that house. With heart pounding, she took off down the street, running as fast as her legs would carry her off into the unknown.


Annabelle's feet dragged as she walked down the barely lit street. She felt a pang of paranoia each time she passed through the glow of a streetlight, even though the chances of anyone she knew being around were slim to none. She didn't know how long she ran, but it felt like she'd gone for miles. Eventually, she had to start walking, but even that was taxing. Her legs felt like they could give out any minute. By some miracle, she'd made it to the East side of town without being seen. It wasn't where she preferred to be, but it was the only place she could go to avoid other Socs.

Exhausted, she all but collapsed on a nearby curb, her suitcase clunking down next to her. It was only then that the reality of the situation set in. She had nowhere to go and no one she could turn to. The loneliness that had hung over her as long as she could remember reared its ugly head and morphed into something she had never truly known-the sick sensation of being completely alone. The darkness suddenly seemed darker, and a chill ran through her as a breeze brushed her newly exposed neck. That was one thing she hadn't thought of when she hacked all her hair off. Not that the decision had come with much thought in the first place.

"Lost, baby?" a voice rang out, causing Annabelle to jump.

She looked up to see three greaser boys, maybe sixteen or so, walking towards her. They were just kids, but she'd been raised to be wary of anyone from the "bad" side of town. Out of pure instinct, she grabbed the handle of her suitcase and held it tight. She anxiously tugged at her sweater and averted her gaze as they approached.

"Well, are you?" the boy prodded, sneering as he sat down next to her on the curb. Annabelle flinched and pointedly scooted away. She kept her eyes cast downward, focusing intensely on her shoelaces.

"Jesus, what happened to your hair? Lose a fight with a lawnmower or something?" Another one of the boys joined in, sitting on the other side of her. She was now sufficiently trapped. Panic began to rise in her chest, and a knot formed in her stomach. She tried desperately to appear unbothered, but she knew she was doing a terrible job. Everything about her radiated fear, and there was nothing Annabelle hated more than letting someone know they had gotten the best of her.

"I can't believe your Soc-y daddy couldn't pay for anything better than that," the third one smirked and grabbed a piece of Annabelle's hair.

Her breath caught in her throat, and she felt like she could vomit as he touched her. What did these boys want from her? What were they going to do to her? Why did everyone think they could just put her through whatever they wanted? In a rush of panic, frustration, and exhaustion, Annabelle swung her suitcase with all her might and knocked the third boy back. She jumped up as he stumbled and ran down the street as fast as she could. Her legs ached. She could barely breathe from fear and exertion. She could barely see in the darkness. She could barely think. Annabelle didn't know if the boys were following her, but the feeling that they were crept up her spine. All she could do was keep running.

A.N. - Hey, guys! Sorry it's been so long since I've updated. Wild to think about how last time I uploaded a chapter for this story, COVID wasn't even a thought in my mind. Anyway, I'm going to try to update more regularly, but I can't make any promises because of school and such. The song for this chapter is "Unprodigal Daughter" by Alanis Morissette, specifically the version from the musical Jagged Little Pill. Hope you enjoyed this chapter!