Chapter Text
"I'm done with you!!!" I screeched, throwing my hands in the air. "I'm done with all of you!! I'm done with the condescending tones, the lack of respect! I'm just done."
I ran into my room, ignoring the shouts behind me. I locked the door, and pushed a chair against it so nobody could get in. I grabbed an old backpack from my closet, putting my diary in with some pencils before stuffing it to the brim with clothes. When that was full, I grabbed a duffel bag and stuffed it too, grabbing sweatshirts and t shirt and shorts and an extra pair of shoes. I was prepared for any type of weather. I found the sock I kept hidden in the back of my underwear drawer, and pulled out the money stashed there. I'd kept it ready, in case I ever decided to run. I shoved the money back into the sock, sticking the sock in my backpack.
I was constantly fighting with my father. He demanded respect, and all I asked in return was that he do the same. I was fed up with the way I was treated around here, everybody acted like I was the disgrace of the family. So I listened to different music than them and had different opinions. I'm still a part of the family, I need love too.
I slung the backpack over my shoulders, looking around for anything else I might want. I grabbed my phone charger from beside my bed, stuffing it into the front pocket of my backpack. I thought I was finished, but my little stuffed turtle was staring at me from my bed, and I picked him up and shoved him in my backpack. I found my very best tennis shoes and tugged them on.
Hearing that they had all stopped banging on the door and moved on to do something more worth their time, I stepped out. I went into the living room, walking straight past my family and to the door.
"Going somewhere?" My stepmom sneered from her armchair.
"You betcha." I said, my words clipped and cold.
"Where??" She demanded, sitting up slightly.
"I have no idea." I smirked before walking straight out the door.
I was glad it was warm out, though it was kind of chilly for late April. I had a sweater on, so I wasn't that cold, but my jeans were incredibly ripped, and I could feel goosebumps starting to rise on my legs. I only wore these today because I knew they pissed my dad off. I knew it was gonna really cold when the sun went down. I had to find refuge.
There was a cheap motel just a couple miles down the road. It was skeevy, and gross, but it would do for the night. Dad would never expect me to go there, which was great. It was going to take a little bit to get off my property though, we lived a half mile into the forest.
I pulled my headphones out of my pocket, plugging them into my iPod and hitting play on a random song. The House of Wolves by Bring Me the Horizon started playing and I sighed. Perfect. I walked and got completely lost in the music.
I was trying not to cry as I walked. I've never done anything like this before, ran away... I've thought about it and threatened it, but I've never actually done it. It was weird. I've basically been a prisoner for twenty two years, and now I'm free.
It felt amazing.
I laughed as I realised this, then broke out into a run, holding my arms out wide and jumping every hundred meters or so. My arms moved in as I broke into a full sprint. I kept running until I felt my lungs were about to burst, which took a while. I run a mile every morning before dawn, before anybody else wakes up. I have a track I've worn into the ground in the woods.
After taking a second to catch my breath, I started walking again. I glanced at my phone, I'd been running for thirty minutes. I think I'm only a half mile away now. I'm not sure, I've never been good with estimating distances. I stayed at a walk, ignoring the people staring.
About ten minutes later, I'd found the motel. I went to the fast food place across from it first, going straight to the bathroom. I got the sock full of cash out of my backpack, counting through it quickly.
Three thousand dollars. For the past five years, I'd maintained a job at a supermarket working for minimum wage at sixty hours a week, with Sunday as my only day off, only to give all of my money to my father. But he'd allowed me to keep five percent of each pay check, and I saved it all, hid it away in my underwear drawer. I never needed to buy anything, I only went out of the house for work and my dad and stepmom bought clothes for me on a regular basis. I shoved all but a hundred dollars back into the sock and into my backpack.
I exited the bathroom and bought myself a milkshake so I didn't seem rude, then started walking over to the motel. It was just as gross and dingy as I remembered.
"Hi, how much is a room here?" I asked the man at the front desk. He looked to be in his mid thirties, with sunken grey eyes and greasy black hair.
"Thirty dollars for a single, forty for a double." He spoke in a monotone. I silently counted out thirty dollars and laid it on the counter. He took it, pocketed it, and silently handed me an old fashioned room key with a tag hanging off it that read "102". I set off in search for the room, and found it in no time.
The room was dark, and smelled of mildew and stale cigarette smoke. It was pretty bare, nothing but a bed and a little end table and a chair filled the main room, and there was a bathroom off to the side. It wasn't much, but it was all I needed.
I threw my bags into a chair sitting against the wall, flopping face first on the bed. It was hard, and squeaky. I sighed. The first night of freedom is bound to be an uncomfortable one.
And that's when it hit me. I was really on my own here. My dad or stepmom haven't tried to call me, they obviously don't care. I was completely and utterly alone.
Tears quickly started rolling down my face and I curled up into a ball on the bed as sobs began to wash over me. I couldn't believe myself. Running away, what a stupid and selfish thing to do.
But I had to do it. I'd been trapped there for seven years.
I picked up my phone, scrolling through my contacts. I just needed somebody to talk to. Problem is, I haven't talked to any of my friends for seven years, so I only had family members on my phone. Except for one. I'd kept his number all these years.
"Oh what the hell..." I muttered to myself, wiping the tears off my face. I hit call on the contact, a turtle popping up on my screen as the contact picture.
"Hello?" He answered after two rings, and another wave of sobs rushed over me. Oh how I had missed that voice.
"T-Tony?" I stuttered. "It's- it's me Freddie. I... I really need you right now."