The Straight - Edge boy with the Pepsi Tattoo™

This is a story dreamt about. It is about a girl who runs away from England to a place of opportunity, America. But when she gets there things pan out really well. She then crosses paths with a boy but he isn't just a normal ordinary boy, he is special.


2. The Last Straw

For me, today was the last straw. Things had gotten way out of hand and it just didn't feel safe. When I tiptoed from room to room, ever vigilantly, it looked like an EF5 tornado had literally ripped things apart, destroying all in sight, from miles and miles away. Chair legs and table tops where ripped off and unscrewed with the nails scattered and snapped in half like a sea of broken toothpicks, but just more shiny than toothpicks! Anyways, there had never been a more traumatic scene in my life than what I was witnessing right before my eyes. My parents were sitting on the living room carpet, panting with blood dripping down their faces like they had bloody tears. Their eyes were limestone white with no pupil to be spotted. Skin so pale that you could see their insides. Cuts and bruises and battering and scars so frequent that there was no inch of their body not to be found covered. Strong warp threads ripped so their clothes had officially become rags. They were crying and screaming in distress. The TV was shattered, the walls seemed as if they were painted red, the springs and feathers flying out of every bed. Tables broken, chairs dismantled, the lights were sparking while the lamps were man-handled. Sofas ripped and pictures torn, puddles of liquid spilling out into the open. Nowhere wasn't ruined. I just didn't have a home or family anymore.


The pressure of the world dawned on me. This moment was so horrific and intensively destructive, it was getting hard to breathe. I couldn't live here anymore, nothing is stable, whether it was furniture or people. I felt like I was being scolded by the sun and being dragged into the depths of hell. Boiled and evaporated in a cauldron of extreme measures of woe and distress. Cries of thousands of children and moans of billions of haunted spirits. This is a living horror story and I MUST ESCAPE. So I'm packing my things and running away forever. I will NEVER return.

Join MovellasFind out what all the buzz is about. Join now to start sharing your creativity and passion
Loading ...