Hearts Bleeding in the Rain

I woke to the sound of screams and swears. I sat up in my cot & looked around at the cracked, grey walls, before getting up and tiptoeing to the bathroom. Here, I wash the sleep from my eyes with cold water, waking myself up. I apply my black eyeliner, then go back to my room to dress.

I pull on a black BVB hoodie with black sweats, holey white sneakers and black with blue lettering fuzzy sweat bands on my wrists that say "Breaking" and "Benjamin". Before leaving my room, I grab a silver chain, from which hangs a two inch by two inch black and silver cross. I peek around the corner to scan the scene. Shit's broken everywhere, liquor running down the walls. I figure out that they're in their room now.

I sneak to the kitchen, my footsteps silenced by the filthy carpet as I pass. I pack a bunch of food into a plastic bag, then stuff that into a duffel bag. I then hurry back to my room, grab some important stuff and put that into the bag, as well. I sigh as I hear a heavy rain start to pound at the window. After taking a quick scan of the room, I head out...just to be slammed into the hallway wall by my father.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?!" he shouts at me.

I shut my eyes and cover my face. I wish I had a mommy. Then I could scream for her. The woman who pounds me right now is not my mom. They're fighting for who gets to beat me. They both hate me. But they don't want me to leave. They want me to suffer...like...they...suffered.

It's getting harder to process things and form thoughts as I struggle to block my face and other areas from there blows. Finally, something overcomes me, the state into which I fall when everything's just too much. It makes my eyes shoot open, my vision clear, no thoughts are present in my mind. I grab my bag and zip forward, somehow making it through their legs without being blocked.

I burst through the front door and I run. I just run, as I'm soaked through by the rain. I don't feel the tears that fall from my eyes and mix with the rain on my face and neck. I don't feel anything, and it's all so clear.

I end up on my ass, with my back against some building, crying into my knees in the fetal position. I can feel again, the rush and the clarity gone. I feel a large, strong hand touch my head. I look up and into the face of a tall, muscled man in a red sweater and black jeans. His black hair is tall and spiked. His smile is warm.

He pulls me to me feet and says, "Come with me".

And I do.