Prologue
Blood drips slowly from my cupid’s bow, falling down to my bottom lip. My tears mingle with the drops of blood. The once steady flow is now barely noticeable as I grab a bag that I've hidden under the loose floorboards in my room. I have a plan.
He's been silent for over two hours. I’ve waited, backed into the corner of my childhood room, listening for signs that he is gone or asleep. I pray he's passed out and that the quiet creaking of my bare feet won't be enough to wake him.
A small button on the sleeve of my shirt catches my nose, as I again try to wipe the blood away. I need to move unnoticed but can’t chance staying in this house long enough to clean myself up. I hiss from the contact. I won’t do that again.
My hope to make it another three weeks is gone. I wish I could finish my sophomore year and collect my final paycheck from the small grocer where I work. Mr. White would probably give it to me early.
The floor creaks from down the hall. I freeze. Is the house just settling, or is he up?
When no more sound follows, I continue gathering the few personal belongings I've stowed away over the last year. Things have been getting progressively worse. If I want to make it to my junior year, I need to run now.
With one final look around my childhood room I throw my backpack over my shoulder and slink, silently as possible, through my bedroom window. The drop from the second floor, which seemed so dangerous a short few years ago, doesn't faze me. I know where true danger lies.
As I walk down the dirt drive, I turn around and look at the house my mother loved, the family farm my mom and dad built together. I wish I could walk through the kitchen door once more and feel her presence and hear her humming a little song while she bakes. She’s gone. Nothing can change that. Now all I feel as I leave is relief from the fear and pain.
I turn my back, knowing I'll never see the old house again. Tears fall as I make my escape.
