Runaway

A girl hates her abusive life. She can’t escape it. So she try’s to run away from it all but all of that is out of her grasp.

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1. Beautiful horror

It was the first day in March. Spring. One of the best seasons. Except for the rain. But, I guess we humans don’t take the time to appreciate the rain. Or nature for that matter. I have lots of thoughts about the human race and how dumb we are. Especially my “parents”. The dumbest of them all. My dad is always drinking and my mom, well let’s just say, she is rude and abusive. I don’t like m6 life at all. That is why I have this book to keep me company. “Gabby! Get you butt here now!” My mom says. “Coming mother dearest!” I say because if I don’t, she’ll hit me. But, I can deal with it. I rush downstairs and stand in a military position in front of her. “What is this mess?” My mom yelled. She pointed at a broken glass bottle all over the floor. “I don’t know it might be one of dads bottles.” I said quietly. “CLEAN IT UP NOW OR ELSE YOU WILL GET THE WORST HIT OF YOUR LIFE! Now, this BETTER be clean by the time I get back. And make me a feast for lunch.” My mom scolded while slamming the door. So, I get started cleaning the mess. I can’t find the broom so I get the glass up with my hands. I do get cut but you know what, who cares? It’s not like my parents do. I was adopted from being a young 5 year old girl. But now, they found me and decided to take me in. So now I am 13 but a slave. I run into the kitchen and make my mom her lunch. I made pork and beans. Also, three turkey sandwiches with exactly 3 pieces of Swiss cheese. A warm cup of lemon tea. Then I run upstairs to read a lovely book about this girl named Juliet that falls in love with a peasant named Romeo. I haven’t finished it yet for obvious reasons. But I ca- “GABBY! GET DOWN HERE WHAT DID I SAY YOU SHOULD DO WHEN I OPEN THE DOOR??!!” My mom scoled. I got so caught up talking I forgot to stand in military position and take off her shoes! I rush downstairs again (FYI I live in the attic) and take off her shoes. Then  she goes on to yell at me once more. My tea isn’t hot, my shoes aren’t shined and my turkey sandwich isn’t perfectly symmetrical. I just sit there not giving a care in the world. Maybe one day someone will appreciate what I do. 

 

                                                     ~One day~

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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