Safe with you

Cassie Briggs has just run away from her home, where she gets a daily beating from her abusive father. She has just moved to England where she will try and find a new life of her own. But while she is there, she finds a boy who might just take her on the best adventure of her life. While they are seemingly safe together, her father is not giving up on finding her, however. Will she be safe, or will she fall?


2. On the plane (backstory)

I take my seat at row 6 in economy class, and take a deep breath. I smile to myself and think about how for the first time in what seems like forever, I will have a whole 8 and a half hours to myself. I look through my backpack, the only item I brought with me for my trip. I see a hairbrush, toothpaste and a toothbrush, Chapstick, a change of clothes, my passport, my ID, money, and a picture of my mom. My mom. My wonderful, loving mother, the one who stroked my hair and sang to me and bought me clothes and who I could trust and tell anything to, my mother who is now dead because of cancer. I remember the day she died so vividly it was like yesterday. She had been sick for months, and was diagnosed with a rare kind of brain cancer, and she had one month to live. That's what the doctors said. They were wrong. She had one week. One week before my life would change for the rest of my life. One week that was the last happiness I would remember. Then when she died, something shattered inside of me. The tough barrier I had put up around me to make sure nothing could hurt me broke into a million pieces. And for my dad, something built up, a rage, a hatred for the world, a hatred for everyone, everything, and he took it out on me. Beating me every day. I then looked down to my legs and saw the purple bruises and marks from his punches. I look on my arms and saw the scars from his whippings. I looked inside my head and saw damage that could never be repaired, all because of him, all because of what he did. That is why I ran.

I woke up this morning at three o'clock and packed a bag of things I would need, and had bought a ticket to England, knowing I would be doing this. I hid it under my bed when I heard him coming up the stairs, thumping his big, leather boots that gave me the chills every time I heard them clunk. He opened my door and said, "Come here, you worthless rat. I had a rough night at work yesterday." And when I didn't come straight away, he walked over and kicked me in the jaw and yelled this time, "I SAID COME HERE YOU PIECE OF GARBAGE!" And started hitting me and kicking me. But even though it hurt, it happened everyday, and I had become so numb to it that it barely meant anything anymore, so I decided that now was my chance. So I ran. I ran as fast as I could, going nowhere, just away from him. My horrible monster of a father. That is how I got here. In England, I will make a new life, without beatings or bleeding, and live a happy life. But I know I can never be how I was before. Every hit my father delivered took a bit of my happiness, a bit of my soul, a bit of me. But this will not happen again. I will not let it happen again.

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