The Runaways – Chapter 3
By MyNameIsCAL
Correction: Last chapter I accidently kept saying "Gazzy and Nudge" when I really meant Gazzy and Angel. I went back and corrected it, but in case you were confused, I just wanted to clear that up.
Just to be safe, I'm also changing the rating to M because of things that go on in this chapter with Fang. And I am warning you, things could be a little bit graphic as a certain someone attacks and, to be blunt, molests Fang. Thanks you for your understanding.
---Nudge's POV---
My parents were never the ones to ever come to my school performances or take me places. They worked all day and came home late at night, only to leave a few hours later. Sometimes I would come home and my dad or mom would be home, but they were working, hard working as I thought at the time. We lived in a trailer park, just on the outskirts of town. When I did see my parents, a rare event during the day time, they kept saying they almost had enough money to get us a house. But they had been saying that since two years ago and I was losing faith.
As soon as I was young enough to go to school, they started to disappear from my life. Now that I was old enough to look after myself, they wouldn't even come home sometimes.
Today was like every other. I walked home from school, a place where my friends were few. I didn't fit in. To them, I was trailer trash. I amounted to nothing but the girl that got picked on or pitied. Like always, I stopped at the store on the way home to pick up dinner for later. There was a guy, high schooler, dressed in all black, buying all the microwave dinners they had left. The ones I was going to get for dinner tonight.
He looked down at me, maybe a foot and a half or two taller than me. I started to back away.
"I'm sorry, did you want some of these," he said, handing me three boxes from the top of his pile.
And then he was gone, with his four other boxes. He creeped me out, but at least I had gotten my dinner.
A few hours later, I sat at home, trying to get signal as I sat at the small table, eating my dinner and finishing up my homework. All that came up was the news and I settled for it, seeing that I should feel lucky that I got any signal at all even though I ended up watching the news every day.
Drugs had been in the news lately. Smugglers from Mexico were bringing them in and distributing them. Even in the local news, drug busts seemed to be happening every day. It made me wonder about the people I passed on the streets.
---Fang's POV---
It was the middle of the week now. Friday would come and then everything would start all over again. Today, I returned home to find my mom home for once. There were bags of powder scattered all over the table. She was standing in the kitchen, smoking, a bottle of vodka newly opened on the table.
"Hey!" Someone shouted from her bedroom. "Get in here!"
That voice. It was so familiar.
My mom picked up the bottle, her words slurring. "I'll be there in a sec!"
And a man came stumbling out of the room, shirtless and probably more wasted than my mother.
"Hello, Nick," the man grinned.
"What the hell are you doing here?" I growled.
"Miss me?" He took a step towards me, almost falling forward.
"Get the fuck out of here." I wasn't thinking when I threw a punch at him.
And he tackled me to the floor, beating me senseless in a drug induced rage. The last time I saw my dad, he had left my mom beaten and crying, bloodied and bruised. I guess it was my turn to take the heat.
---Nudge's POV---
I wake up early to walk to school. At least one of my parents had been home last night. The garbage had been taken out, money for me had been restocked in the drawer, and yesterday's paper lay on the table. But whoever was here before, whether it was mom or dad, I would never know.
Thursday was always that day before Friday. I hated Thursdays. Maybe even more than I hated Wednesdays. I didn't feel like going to school. The walk was too far, but the bus came too early for my liking anyway. I shouldn't complain, really. Sometimes I wished I could fly so I could wake up five minutes before school started.
On the weekends, I cleaned up around and in the trailer. If I was lucky, one of my parents would come home this weekend. The cleaning up was my being hopefully, but usually it didn't work. I could hope for weeks and only see them leaving or coming in when I had to go to school. Other weekends I would mope around or walk places.
I loved my parents though. They always made sure I had money to have something to eat. If I ever needed to call them, they would answer right away. They just weren't around.
---Fang's POV---
I came to in my room. Nothing seemed to be touched. Maybe my father had just thrown me in here, not that he deserved to be called my father.
And then the door burst open, Daddy dearest standing there. "You're one little nasty son of a bitch."
I tried to roll of the bed, but he grabbed me, injecting me with something. And then I couldn't move anymore. He threw me back on the bed. I could hear him unlatch his belt buckle. Pain only came next as he began to hit me. I blacked out from the screaming sometime between being hit endlessly and my father pulling off my pants…
Right, I hope that didn't bother any of you too much. And I'm really sorry if it did. But I wanted to put a bit in there with Fang's father and show how abusive he was. In the next chapter, we'll just see Fang in the aftermath of what happened to him. Well, tell me what you think…I don't want to scare you away from reading it. I was just trying to write something powerful. Thanks for reading!