Status: Writing in progress.
Save Me
I Don't Belong Here.
I carried on running, as fast as I could carry myself. It took almost all of my strength to ignore the engraved feeling of pain in the pit of my stomache; I took deep breaths but with each one the pain grew worse. The alarming wail of sirens were gradually trailing off into the distant sunset as I continued to carry myself further away from the horror that remained back there. I needed water and my muscles cried for a rest.
The pain was unimaginable; almost as if one thousand knives were being impaled into my now lifeless body. I winced in pain as I finally gave up fighting my battle and collapsed onto the dusty ground, gasping for oxygen. I looked around, studying the unfamilier surroundings trying to come to a conclusion as to where the hell I was.
It took me a while to piece everything together, after all Huntington was a considerably large place, but I found out sooner or later where I was; a very wealthy looking housing estate a couple of streets away from Central park.
I decided to pick myself up and walk the short distance to the park, and sat myself down by and overgrown weeping willow tree. that would be my bed for the night. It was uncomfortable and cold though I couldn’t possibly complain, this was 5 star luxury compared to what I would have been facing at home right now. I was thankful enough to be away from that monstorous psychopath, complaining was not on my agenda.
I was aware of the situation I would be in when I awoke in the morning, but that was meerly the future and nothing more. For now I just had to get on with what I had to do. I curled up into a ball, tucking my knees into my chest and used my Pantera hoody as a blanket. I shut my eyes carefully but quickly re-opened them as the flash backs from the night before seeped their way back into my head. I shook my head violently trying to dispose of these mentally scarring visions though they were engraved into my brain and weren’t going to be going anywhere any time soon.
I buried my head in my hands, my once sleek black hair hanging from my head all matted and dull. My eyesight became blury as I wiped the odd tear or two from my cheeks, then I began to let them fall freely onto my bruised skin. I breathed in heavily. The air smelled of sweet California; the salty breeze blowing every now and then, sending some leaves to scatter across the floor. There was nobody around, not a living soul. I had no idea what the time was, I had no phone, no money and no food. I looked up into the distance to see a full view of the setting sun. I admired its gracefulness as it slowly dissappeard behind the houses. Soon darkness began to fall and the air became thin.
I’d loved the dark up untill the age of 8. Until the day my father’s soul was taken away and the devil put in place. My mother used to comfort me in the dark, tell me everything was okay and that there was nothing to be afraid of. She would stroke my head until I’d drift off into a deep sleep. There was only one thing I was scared of back when I was a kid and that was losing my mother. On my 7th birthday my mum lost her fight with breast cancer and to my dismay passed away. It was then my world crumbled right before my eyes. It’s funny how one thing can change everything. How everything begins to fall apart, piece by piece, bit by bit. When dreams shatter into a million tiny pieces that will never be able to be recovered ever again.
Ever since that day I developed a phobia of the dark. My mother was no longer around to protect me from my father and I always imagined my dad snatching me and making me do all sorts of sick twisted things that I couldn’t even understand at the age of 8. He told me he was playing games with me, that there was nothing to worry about. Worst of all, he told me it was what he called ‘fun’. The psychopathic bastard needed specialist help.
Every night I had hoped and prayed for this ever-growing sin to stop - eventually it did. It stopped today and here I was. Curled up next to a tree as far away from that monster as I could possibly be; I was content with that, to say the least.
The pain was unimaginable; almost as if one thousand knives were being impaled into my now lifeless body. I winced in pain as I finally gave up fighting my battle and collapsed onto the dusty ground, gasping for oxygen. I looked around, studying the unfamilier surroundings trying to come to a conclusion as to where the hell I was.
It took me a while to piece everything together, after all Huntington was a considerably large place, but I found out sooner or later where I was; a very wealthy looking housing estate a couple of streets away from Central park.
I decided to pick myself up and walk the short distance to the park, and sat myself down by and overgrown weeping willow tree. that would be my bed for the night. It was uncomfortable and cold though I couldn’t possibly complain, this was 5 star luxury compared to what I would have been facing at home right now. I was thankful enough to be away from that monstorous psychopath, complaining was not on my agenda.
I was aware of the situation I would be in when I awoke in the morning, but that was meerly the future and nothing more. For now I just had to get on with what I had to do. I curled up into a ball, tucking my knees into my chest and used my Pantera hoody as a blanket. I shut my eyes carefully but quickly re-opened them as the flash backs from the night before seeped their way back into my head. I shook my head violently trying to dispose of these mentally scarring visions though they were engraved into my brain and weren’t going to be going anywhere any time soon.
I buried my head in my hands, my once sleek black hair hanging from my head all matted and dull. My eyesight became blury as I wiped the odd tear or two from my cheeks, then I began to let them fall freely onto my bruised skin. I breathed in heavily. The air smelled of sweet California; the salty breeze blowing every now and then, sending some leaves to scatter across the floor. There was nobody around, not a living soul. I had no idea what the time was, I had no phone, no money and no food. I looked up into the distance to see a full view of the setting sun. I admired its gracefulness as it slowly dissappeard behind the houses. Soon darkness began to fall and the air became thin.
I’d loved the dark up untill the age of 8. Until the day my father’s soul was taken away and the devil put in place. My mother used to comfort me in the dark, tell me everything was okay and that there was nothing to be afraid of. She would stroke my head until I’d drift off into a deep sleep. There was only one thing I was scared of back when I was a kid and that was losing my mother. On my 7th birthday my mum lost her fight with breast cancer and to my dismay passed away. It was then my world crumbled right before my eyes. It’s funny how one thing can change everything. How everything begins to fall apart, piece by piece, bit by bit. When dreams shatter into a million tiny pieces that will never be able to be recovered ever again.
Ever since that day I developed a phobia of the dark. My mother was no longer around to protect me from my father and I always imagined my dad snatching me and making me do all sorts of sick twisted things that I couldn’t even understand at the age of 8. He told me he was playing games with me, that there was nothing to worry about. Worst of all, he told me it was what he called ‘fun’. The psychopathic bastard needed specialist help.
Every night I had hoped and prayed for this ever-growing sin to stop - eventually it did. It stopped today and here I was. Curled up next to a tree as far away from that monster as I could possibly be; I was content with that, to say the least.
♠ ♠ ♠
First chapter. Writing is just a hobby of mine so please don't expect it to be exceptionally written. Anyhow, after correcting a few grammatical mistakes and spelling errors, I would say that this isn't so bad. Feedback would be appreciated. :)