I laid down on my bed, my arms under my head as I stared blankly at myself in the mirror across the room. It was a Saturday afternoon and i had finished all of my errands already. What else was I supposed to do?
The door swung, making me change my gaze from the mirror to the door. "What are you doing?" she asked disgustedly. I looked around my room, trying to find any other obvious action I was doing that she couldnt not see I was laying down on my bed.
"Lying down?" I asked her with an obvious tone.
She glared at me and scoffed. "Dont give me that tone. You're not to leave this house while your father and I are out, is that understood?" Her black hair with faded highlights shook with every 'threatening' word she spoke at me. I could tell from her ragged look that she was going out to buy groceries. She wore a faded McDonald's t-shirt with parts of the M missing, and her capris could be pants if they were a little longer. And her shoes? Well, she didnt have shoes. Instead she chose to wear slippers, that were a definitive brown. I figured they'd be gone for a good 5 hours.
I sighed, turning over on my back. "You do know that I dont live here anymore, right?" I turned to face her.
She gritted her teeth. Even if I needed glasses, and I needed them badly I might add, I could tell from the look in her eyes and her body language that she was not happy, but then again, she was never happy when it came to something about me.
"Hey, honey," greeted my father, smiling behind the figure I called my mother. He placed a hand on her shoulder, his face slightly fading as he realized the tension in his wife. They stood there for a good 2 minutes of silence.
I rolled my eyes. "Look, MOM," I stood up. "You hate me. And for what? GOD knows only why. So, how about this? Let's just say my 'family' trip here at home--although I dont know why I would call it that--is over, alright? You've already kicked me out, so obviously, you dont want me here." I walked over to the desk chair and grabbed my duffel bag. "That's the reason Im stuck here in the guest room right? Because you've turned my room into a hate-shrine." I turned around, putting my hair up out of the way. "If you want to see me, Dad, just give me a call. You have my number."
I walked past my two guardians and stepped through the door. I could hear them arguing as I walked down the hallway. I had been their problem child since I turned 12 years old. I had snuck out after school with friends to go across the street to buy some food, when I was really supposed to be doing homework. At 13 years old, they had problems with me with grades, which continued on through high school. When I had reached 14 years old, I had officially lied to them several 'BIG' times, and having a hidden boyfriend from them was another. After that, I had stopped trying to do things my way, and had started to do things my way.
I walked down the stairs in a rush as I heard someone walking behind me. I did not want to find out whether that someone was my father, or worse, my mother. I made my way down to the front door and shut it behind me.
I walked into the gloomy day, regretting that I had not bother to change out of my pajama's before storming out on my parents again. I pulled out a hoodie and placed my arms through, feeling warmth as they slid into the sleeves.
I heard movement behind me. Instinctively, I turned around slowly to see what it was. There was no one there. I closed my eyes and shook my head, 'no one'? Why had I assumed that it would be someone?
I kept walking. My apartment was 10 miles from my parents house, although I wished it were further. Cars, in my opinion, were a waste of money. Friends that would stay with me would be surprised at how well-furbished my apartment was and they wanted to know my secret. I shook my head one more time and kept walking, keeping my head low to avoid any more moisture into my hood. I had felt myself beginning to become drizzled with dew drops.
There was a wooshing sound behind me, as if someone were wearing a cloak and had flapped it to annoy me. I sighed tiredly and turned around. I saw a flicker of movement about me in the tree. The trees in my parents neighborhood were closely knit, as well as large and built. It wouldnt have been hard from some kids I knew living on the street to climb up and follow me around.
I walked to the tree trunk and dropped my bag, looking up at the tree with my hands on my hips. I heard more movement above me. "You guys, get out of there," I called upwards.
The movement stopped and it had gone silent again. I looked towards the right, I had passed several houses from my parents house already. There was no one else outside in this weather. It was dark, bleak, and a perfect day to get kidnapped or raped.
"Guys, I can hear you," I called again as more rustling started. This time, it had sounded larger, and not at all kid-like. I bent down slowly, looking up as I did. My bag had a taser and I wanted to be prepared. Several stray leaves fell from the branches, falling into my hair.
I felt a pang of urgency hut me like a bus. When I had turned around the first time, I had thought it was someone because it had sounded like someone. Instead of reaching for my taser, I had reached for my bag and walked away from the tree.
I could not go back to my parents house. I had no key, and their car was gone. I decided to cross the street and take refuge at a nearby house. I glanced up at the trees covering me, I could see a trace of shadows moving above me, and past me.
If I didnt make it across the street before it did, I would be done for. I looked left and right for cars and put one foot onto the pavement. A large figure jumped down in front of me. I let out a scream that was muffled by a gloved hand.
