"No please don't!' I screamed at my father as he lounged at me with a knife. He has been this way ever since my mom died when i was 8. I did everything i could to prevent the beatings, i cooked dinner, cleaned the house, and even bought him the wiskey that he downed each day. But that did not stop him. He took all of his anger out on me, he blamed me for my mothers death, and to him everything was my fault.
I screamed in agony as the knife he had pressed up against me cut a deep gash in my arm. I was used to him hurting me, but he usaually never used a knife. I knew I needed to leave, I needed to get away from my father, get out of this town, but i had waited. I thought my dad would come out of the horrible state he is in. I thought everything would get better. I was wrong.
I kneed him in the stomach which made him roll over in pain. Running into my room I grabbed my backpack that I had packed in case i decided to run away, and $500 in cash. I made a beeline in for the front door and right before went out i heard him scream "I WILL FIND YOU!". I didnt stop, nor did i look back. I was afraid of what i would see. So i kept running until i reached the airport which was conveinently only two miles away.
I quickly bought a ticket to a place that was as far away from California as I can get. Ten minutes later i was boarding a jet that was to take me to London.