I stared at my notebook as I tapped the page with my pencil. My essay was due in just a few days and I had over two weeks to do it. Yet I didn't have anything written yet, besides my name, Dawn Berlitz. After some time, my mother called me from downstairs. Dinner had been ready for a few minutes and I still wasn't down.

"About time," my mother said once I sat at the table. I sat across from her and just looked down at my plate.

"I was doing homework," I said calmly. My mother always tried to make sure I was doing my schoolwork. However she only did so by telling me to do it and never actually checking.

"It better be that damn essay. You should've been done already," my mother said.

"I'll get it done, alright?" I said. I didn't yell or raise my voice, but it was obvious I was annoyed.

"You better. If I get one more call from your teacher about missing work I'm putting you in summer school."

I didn't respond to her. There was no point. Anything I said would've led to her saying something back that would only make me go to my room or start yelling. I let out a quiet groan, which from her head shake I could tell she heard. When she finished eating she got up and began washing her plate. I was quiet while eating. She was quiet while cleaning. I didn't speak until I heard a car pull up into our driveway. I don't remember what I said, but I mumbled it.

"What was that?" my mother asked.

"Nothing," I said. My mother told me it better have been nothing, since I didn't know how hard my father worked to keep a roof over our heads and food on the table. I mentioned that he was rarely even home for the meals he worked so hard for.

Before she said anything else, our front door opened and my father walked in. He tossed his coat on the back of the couch before sitting where my mother had sat at the table. Without any words, my mother brought him a food-filled plate and placed it in front of him. She gave his shoulder a squeeze and smiled at him. He didn't smile back or say anything. Just started eating. My mother let him go and went back to doing any dishes that happened to be in the sink. I looked to my father as he took a bite. I hated him.

I don't remember why and I don't think I always have. But I couldn't remember any time I didn't despise him. Even just sitting across from him and watching him eat annoyed me. He happened to look up before I turned away.

"How was school?" he asked as if he was forced to. I knew he didn't care.

"Fine," was all I said. He didn't ask anything else and I didn't bother asking him anything. He finished eating before me since he hate fast by forcing food into his mouth even when he was already chewing. He wiped his mouth with a napkin before dropping it on his plate.

"I'm done," he said to my mom. He rose from the table and my mother approached him. They kissed before my mom grabbed his plate, scraped whatever was left on it into the trash, then added it to the other dishes she had to clean. My father left the kitchen to go sit on the couch and watch TV, like he always did after work. When he passed me he glanced down at me and I glanced up at him. Despite rarely speaking to him first I said something to him. That was my first mistake of that night.

"You could say thank you, you know."

"Dawn!" shouted my mother. She sounded both shocked and irritated. My father didn't say anything but I saw on his face how he felt. His lips parted and his fists and teeth were clenched. I looked away from him, expecting that to be the end of our exchange but was reminded who I was talking to.

My father grabbed my hair and pulled me down. I was still in my chair but my head was lowered and I couldn't look up if I wanted. I screamed for him to let me go. It wasn't a yell out in pain or desperation but instead one of full anger. All I felt in that moment was rage.

"Honey, knock it off," said my mother. She hadn't moved from the same spot in the kitchen. Her voice's tone was that of a mother reprimanding her child for playing too rough. I never remembered a time when I could turn to her for help when my father became violent. She never intervened for me or my father. Always just a bystander.

My father pulled me up this time causing me to stand but my head still couldn't look up. I grabbed at his arm to free myself. Everytime I pulled on him he didn't budge. When he yanked my hair towards him my body lurched forward making me almost fall to my knees had I not caught myself. After straightening out I went back to pulling but it didn't work. My father was saying words but none of them reached me. I was too mad to hear.

Just wanting to free myself I brought my leg back before swinging it forward and kicking my father in his shin. Luckily I was still wearing my shoes since my mother once told me she hates me wearing them in the house. My father let go of me and I immediately shoved him back. Since he was standing on one leg I was able to make him stumble back into the wall. My mother yelled as she finally walked away from the sink. I don't know what she said. And I don't know what she and my father said as I started running from them. My second mistake that night was not running towards my room and locking the door.

For some reason I ran towards the front door and ran outside. The last thing I thought I heard was both my parents shouting my name and to maybe turn around. I didn't listen and instead kept running down the street. I ran down our street before turning down another and running down it before switching again. I switched streets too many times to count. I didn't stop until my legs burned and nearly gave out just by standing.

Somehow I managed to stay in the area that I knew and was near a park I would come to semi-often. There wasn't anyone around so I made my way to the swingsets and sat on one of the swings. I was breathing hard and my legs felt useless. The thought of moving didn't cross my mind for several minutes. Not until I was breathing somewhat normally and could move my legs properly. I don't how much longer I sat there. Long enough that I noticed the moon was in a different spot then when I arrived.

Going home made the most sense to me, eventually. Had I been able to stay at the park for hours I would've, but I didn't have a jacket and was getting colder and colder. I was going to try and walk back the way I came but saw a car driving up a street to the park and thought it was my parents. Instead I turned and left through the back of the park to avoid the car. That was my third and worst mistake.

Since I didn't want my parents to find me earlier than I wanted I took back streets and cut through people's unfenced yards to keep out of sight of the main roads. Eventually I knew I was only a couple blocks from my street but just wasn't ready to go home yet. I walked in a circle just to waste time and cut through an apartment complex I always passed when walking to or from school. There was an alley behind it with dumpsters and some parking space. I walked through it despite there being no lights aside from the moon.

In the dark the alley felt much smaller than it likely was and with the random sounds of the night such as distant cars and the wind blowing, I began to feel uneasy. That unease turned into dread when I heard muffled speech. At that moment I don't know what I told myself it was but I should've said something much more dangerous so I had the mind to run out of the alley as opposed to barely picking up my pace.

Ahead of me I saw a wall to one side of me and the apartment building to the other along with the shapes of dumpsters and the trees on the other side of the wall. It was dark but I still had some vision. Until I heard quick steps behind me then something was placed over my head turning everything pitch black. The person who covered my face also used whatever they had to choke me so my attempt to scream was nulled. There were more steps and a few voices and I felt myself lifted up by multiple hands. I must've been carried for half a minute before hearing a car door open and felt myself shoved into a vehicle. Some more doors opened and I felt the weight of the car shift as people got inside. All the doors slammed and the car started with a loud rumble. I heard one voice ask if that's her and another answer yeah and to drive.

Whatever was on my head choked me until the car began to move with a sharp jerk from its parked position and sped off. There were a couple hands on me that reminded me of my father and made me start to kick and swing my balled fists. Someone told me to knock it off and another said to make her stop. I felt a fist strike my stomach hard and I stopped all movement with a grunt. Whoever kept my head covered tightened their thin tool until it got hard for me to breathe.

I couldn't see them but I felt my eyelids getting heavier and heavier and I was breathing less and less. Eventually my eyes were closed and I didn't hear anything anymore.


New story. Review/Favorite/Follow. Peace.

~~~Sikoh