What It’s Like to be in Hell and Heaven

18-year-old Angel Clark is fed up with her (single) mother abusing her. In fact, she wishes her mother would’ve sailed that ship into the Bermuda Triangle instead of her father. She tries very hard to escape and one (stormy) day she does. Except, she doesn't expect Josh Hutcherson rescuing her. Read my Movella to find out what happens!

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6. Hidden In the Attic

"Umm, not sure. I'll go ask my mom. You wait here." Conner went to my room.

 

Knock, knock, knock. This time, it was my door being knocked on.

 

"Come in, Conner," I called, sitting on my bed.

 

"There's a lady for you at--"

 

"I know, Conner. She's my mom. I ran away from her."

 

"Why did--"

 

"She abused me. Tell her you've never met an Angel before, and your mom hasn't either." He nodded and went back to the door, telling her what I told him to say.

 

"She's here," was my mom's reply.

 

"No she's not."

 

"I heard her."

 

"No you didn't. That was my mom."

 

"Are you trying to tell me I don't know the sound of my own daughter's voice?"

 

"Yep. Pretty much. 'Kay, bye now!"

 

"No. I'm not leaving!" Mom protested.

 

"'Kay, then. Have it your way." I then heard the door slam. Conner came back to my room.

 

"I slammed the door in her face." He said.

 

"Awesome," I replied, sitting up on my bed.

 

Knock, knock, knock.

 

"Don't answer, Conner, it's probably her."

 

"I won't."

 

A door opened.

 

"Hello? May I help you?" Chris' voice said.

 

"My daughter, Angel, is in there." Chris laughed. Luckily, he didn't remember my name.

 

"Excuse me, ma'am, but we don't steal kids. To prove it to you, you can check our house for her." The sound  of heels click, clack, clicking soon filled the halls. When we were positive she was in the kitchen, the other side of the house, we started to talk.

 

"She's on the opposite side now." Conner said.

 

"I know." I replied.

 

"Let's get you up into the attic. We don't keep anything in there, believe it or not." He reached for my hand. I let him take it.

 

We rushed into the attic while Mom came back down the hall the guest bedroom was in.

 

*2 hrs. later*

 

"I think she's gone." Conner said.

 

"Me too."

 

"Want me to go check?"

 

"Please."

 

He rushed downstairs and back.

 

"Gone at last!" he said happily, when he came back up, through his pants.

 

"Thanks for helping me, Conner," I said as I went back into the guest room.

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