The Knight in Shining Armor
Escaping is possible.
Rylee stripped down in front of the mirror. Bruises and cuts decorated her once beautiful body. Her black hair was a ratted mess, and her green eyes that once used to show life, just gave a tired glare.
“So this is what I've become?” she asked to no one. What she had become was an abused child. Her Mother died, and her Father had become an alcoholic. Rylee had woken up numerous times to her Dad breaking things in a drunken rage. Most of the time, he'd pass out and she wouldn't have to worry. It was those times that he didn't pass out that made Rylee suffer.
She turned on her stereo that her parents had given to her for her sweet 16, which was 2 months ago. Tokio Hotel came drifting out of the speakers.
Come and rescue me, I'm burning can't you see.
Rylee sang along, quietly because if her Dad heard, there would be hell to pay. This was her favorite song, so true to her life. Sometimes she would dream of her knight in shining armor coming and taking her away from this haunted house. That knight was always Bill Kaulitz.
My SOS on radio,
The only chance to let you know
What I fear,
Can you hear?
“Rylee, get your ass down here!” her Dad roared from the bottom of the stairs. Quickly, Rylee turned off the stereo quickly, and pulled on some clothes.
“Get in the car, we're going to be late!” he screamed in her face, “I can't believe you run late every fucking morning!” He slapped her once, twice, three times, and then stormed out. Rylee raised a hand to her stinging face and grabbed a tissue to dry her falling tears. Sniffling, she exited the house and joined her Dad in the car.
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Rylee's POV.
Today is the day, I'm going to do it, not come home from school. My Dad doesn't need me at all, and I packed enough things in my backpack to last me until I get to Germany. He'll never expect to find me there, Germany I think is the last place he'd look, and that's why it's so perfect.
“Sweetheart, are you ok?” a passing teacher asked. I guess it wasn't usual for a girl to be sitting in the hallway during class time.
“Fine,” I lied, hugging my backpack closer.
“You should be in class,” she persisted.
“I'm going, just had to stop and find something in my backpack,” the lies were coming easy now. I pretended to ruffle through my backpack, as if looking for something important. I pulled out my notebook and showed it to her.
“Found it,” I smiled, standing up. I closed my backpack and began walking towards the exit to the school. This teacher didn't know my class was actually the other way, but I can't waste time. My flight leaves soon, and I needed to hitch a ride to the airport.
“Have a good day honey!” she called after me. I stopped in front of a door, and pretended to try and open it. Once the teacher was out of sight, I bolted for the front door. The sweet scent of fresh air greeted me as I ran farther and farther away from the school. When I was about 2 miles from the school, I stopped and stuck my thumb out into the street. Someone has to stop soon.
“Hey cutie, where you need to go?” an old man in a Toyota pickup truck asked, pulling slowly next to me.
“Airport,” I answered shortly. He contemplated this, and opened the passenger door, “Get in.” His voice was gruff and heavily accented. I climbed in next to him, and when we were moving, opened my backpack and grabbed for my passport.
My first family vacation was to Italy, that was just before my Mom died. Took a gun to her own head and pulled the trigger. I was the first to find her, lying in a pool of blood on the balcony. I shuddered at the memory, and grabbed the other things I needed from my bag. Money, cell phone, plane tickets, and a cookie. I nibbled away as we made the turn into the departing lane.
“Where you heading to sugar?” the man asked, pulling over to the curb. He turned to me, and waited for an answer. I swallowed the rest of the cookie, and gathered my things.
“Germany,” I responded, hopping out of the car, “Thanks for the ride.” I slammed the door, and he drove away.
The airport was crowded for a Tuesday, if I had any trouble getting through security, I was going to miss the one chance to escape. All the money I had scrounged up from my savings account, my Mom's will, and stealing was spent on this one way ticket. Once I got to Germany, I'd have nothing left but my backpack, and five dollars in American money. But this is what I wanted.
I made my way to the terminal for international departures. After being bombarded with questions about my trip to Germany (To them, I was visiting family), going through security, and having my bag checked I was boarding my plane. Sitting down in my seat, I looked out the window and waved goodbye to America and my old life. Germany was a fresh start, and I began to relax on my 8 hour flight. Closing my eyes, I thought when I wake up, I'll be away forever.
“So this is what I've become?” she asked to no one. What she had become was an abused child. Her Mother died, and her Father had become an alcoholic. Rylee had woken up numerous times to her Dad breaking things in a drunken rage. Most of the time, he'd pass out and she wouldn't have to worry. It was those times that he didn't pass out that made Rylee suffer.
She turned on her stereo that her parents had given to her for her sweet 16, which was 2 months ago. Tokio Hotel came drifting out of the speakers.
Come and rescue me, I'm burning can't you see.
Rylee sang along, quietly because if her Dad heard, there would be hell to pay. This was her favorite song, so true to her life. Sometimes she would dream of her knight in shining armor coming and taking her away from this haunted house. That knight was always Bill Kaulitz.
My SOS on radio,
The only chance to let you know
What I fear,
Can you hear?
“Rylee, get your ass down here!” her Dad roared from the bottom of the stairs. Quickly, Rylee turned off the stereo quickly, and pulled on some clothes.
“Get in the car, we're going to be late!” he screamed in her face, “I can't believe you run late every fucking morning!” He slapped her once, twice, three times, and then stormed out. Rylee raised a hand to her stinging face and grabbed a tissue to dry her falling tears. Sniffling, she exited the house and joined her Dad in the car.
---------------------
Rylee's POV.
Today is the day, I'm going to do it, not come home from school. My Dad doesn't need me at all, and I packed enough things in my backpack to last me until I get to Germany. He'll never expect to find me there, Germany I think is the last place he'd look, and that's why it's so perfect.
“Sweetheart, are you ok?” a passing teacher asked. I guess it wasn't usual for a girl to be sitting in the hallway during class time.
“Fine,” I lied, hugging my backpack closer.
“You should be in class,” she persisted.
“I'm going, just had to stop and find something in my backpack,” the lies were coming easy now. I pretended to ruffle through my backpack, as if looking for something important. I pulled out my notebook and showed it to her.
“Found it,” I smiled, standing up. I closed my backpack and began walking towards the exit to the school. This teacher didn't know my class was actually the other way, but I can't waste time. My flight leaves soon, and I needed to hitch a ride to the airport.
“Have a good day honey!” she called after me. I stopped in front of a door, and pretended to try and open it. Once the teacher was out of sight, I bolted for the front door. The sweet scent of fresh air greeted me as I ran farther and farther away from the school. When I was about 2 miles from the school, I stopped and stuck my thumb out into the street. Someone has to stop soon.
“Hey cutie, where you need to go?” an old man in a Toyota pickup truck asked, pulling slowly next to me.
“Airport,” I answered shortly. He contemplated this, and opened the passenger door, “Get in.” His voice was gruff and heavily accented. I climbed in next to him, and when we were moving, opened my backpack and grabbed for my passport.
My first family vacation was to Italy, that was just before my Mom died. Took a gun to her own head and pulled the trigger. I was the first to find her, lying in a pool of blood on the balcony. I shuddered at the memory, and grabbed the other things I needed from my bag. Money, cell phone, plane tickets, and a cookie. I nibbled away as we made the turn into the departing lane.
“Where you heading to sugar?” the man asked, pulling over to the curb. He turned to me, and waited for an answer. I swallowed the rest of the cookie, and gathered my things.
“Germany,” I responded, hopping out of the car, “Thanks for the ride.” I slammed the door, and he drove away.
The airport was crowded for a Tuesday, if I had any trouble getting through security, I was going to miss the one chance to escape. All the money I had scrounged up from my savings account, my Mom's will, and stealing was spent on this one way ticket. Once I got to Germany, I'd have nothing left but my backpack, and five dollars in American money. But this is what I wanted.
I made my way to the terminal for international departures. After being bombarded with questions about my trip to Germany (To them, I was visiting family), going through security, and having my bag checked I was boarding my plane. Sitting down in my seat, I looked out the window and waved goodbye to America and my old life. Germany was a fresh start, and I began to relax on my 8 hour flight. Closing my eyes, I thought when I wake up, I'll be away forever.