Run

Jeanne awoke, due to the sun brightly sinning through the shades of her window. The birds chirped though the half-open window, singing their lovely song. Moaning the brunette got out of bed and ruffled her hair as she walked out of her room. She walked down the hall, hearing moans and smacking of lips. Sighing she called out, “Mother?”

The sounds stop and a “shh” came from down stairs, “I’ll be with you in a second love, I’m kind of busy.” Her mother called up giggling a bit at the end. Jeanne rolled her eyes as she listened to her own mother downstairs, as another smack was heard she gagged a bit and listened some more. “I had an amazing night,” her mother spoke in a low, husky voice followed by another smack.

“Me too,” a man’s voice replied, the voice was rather ruff and husky like her mothers, but really deep. Smacks continued from down below, Jeanne could only imagine what was going on down stairs, her own mother sucking face with a stranger she just met the night before. The stranger might be half her age, but her mother most likely didn’t know or doesn’t care. In Jeanne’s short seventeen years she couldn’t remember how many men her mother has gotten with behind her father’s back.

However, her father did the same, but with girls her own age. Cringing at the thought that passed in her head, the young girl slowly walked down the twisted steps. Running her hand down the railing she gave her mother time to finish as she walked, sighing when she pushed the male out and slammed the door. Pretending like she saw nothing Jeanne walked into the kitchen to fix herself some breakfast. “Morning mother.” She greeted as her mother followed her into the kitchen.

“Morning Jeanne,” her mother replied as the daughter grabbed a bowl and some cereal. “Did you see anything?” her mother asked aimlessly twirling her hair and breathing heavily.

Jeanne chuckled, shook her head side to side, as she picked up her bowl, and began eating, “No,” she stated sarcastically.

Boom! Jeanned yelled as she found herself pinned to the ground with her mother on top of her. Her bowl of cereal had gotten smashed to piece in the process and in betted itself into her arm. Gasping in pain she tried to free herself a useless effort considering her mother weighed a lot. “Don’t you Dare talk to me that way. You are only here to make us look like a loving family, got it? Nothing else, we don’t need you’re mouth. Remember without me you wouldn’t exist or have the things you have. So don’t ever talk to me like that.” Her mother spat angrily.

“Yes mother,” the pinned girl squeezed out in fear.

“Good, now get this mess cleaned up, we have company at one.” Her mother spoke getting up and brushing herself off, before leaving the room. Cleaning up the mess in the kitchen, Jeanne decided to do one of the most dangerous things a teenager, like herself, could do. Runaway. This isn’t the first time her mother has assaulted her, nor was it the first time she thought about running. Both have been going on for many years now. Jeanne could even remember the exact day, hour and place her mother first beat her.

The day was October 2 3002, it was the day of her birthday and her parents threw her a party earlier in the day. At the time, her parents were fighting and her mother had to blow of some steam after the stressful day and the fight. The older woman blamed her daughter for her troubles thus beating her so she would feel the pain she did. The young girl cried, but no matter how loud she did, the mother didn’t stop till she was bloody and crippled.

Sighing, Jeanne pushed the memory out of her head as she finished her cleaning and went upstairs to pack. Throwing things into a large bag as quietly as she could, Jeanne thought about where she could go, but came up empty. At least I don’t have friends the girl thought to herself as she zipped up her bag.

Slipping on her shoes, the brunette walked down the steps, stopping to pick up some money from the safe, that hid behind a large plant. Opening the door quietly she ran out it and down the street without looking back.