Our Own Little Piece of Forever
Leaving home
Vitani’s POV
Finally, a new town, a fresh start away from my family, the only problem is I don’t know where to go from here. All my stuff (which isn’t much) is moved into my new apartment. I guess I should get a bank account set up or something. Gosh, I’m an idiot sometimes. I really should have thought everything through before actually doing this. Whatever, I needed to get away from my dad. He seem fine with finally getting rid of me so at least I know he won’t come after me, because believe me, he would.
I grab my sunglasses and head out the door to my bike. I know I should not spend more money but I think I need a car or something, Miami is huge. So I head off to the car dealership. Half of my money in my backpack, the rest is locked up safe.
A few hours later I have a used Honda Civic and am struggling to understand how Americans can drive on this side of the road! Now off to the bank to set up my account. Afterwards, I get some food and other supplies for cooking and stuff.
Wow, I have had a really busy first day here. Now for my last piece of business, I need a job. I run around from place to place. I finished applications for Red Robin, Denny’s, Olive Garden, and a strange place called Texas Roadhouse. That one is really my last choice, I hate country music and that is all they play there.
By the end of the day, I am exhausted. I go to my apartment with my arm full of bags. I get up to my floor, struggling under the weight of the bags when a man at least a head taller than me run right into me, knocking me down. I make a silly little oof noise and fall right on my bum.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t see you,” He says, pulling me to my feet.
“It’s fine, it was an accident.” I say brushing myself off. I look up to thank him for helping me up, but he was already gone. Well, that was strange. I didn’t even see his face. I think to myself but just shrug it off. I pick up my remaining bags and go into my apartment. I organize a little but I am so exhausted I just collapse into bed and fall asleep instantly.
Jake’s POV
I sit on the patio of my apartment, sipping coffee. I look down to see the people walking down the street, the cars going everywhere. A van pulls up, one of those from the airport. And someone gets out with about three bags of luggage and a bike. Must be the new person moving in down the hall. Maybe I’ll say hi later… Probably not. I don’t like meeting new people much. I’m more of a lone wolf.
I continue to stare out into the city. It’s always so hot here! Sometimes I wish I was back in England, but then I think about my father… I will never go back. I mean I miss my brother… sometimes, but I will never go back. This city moves as fast as London, except the traffic is on the wrong side.
I go back inside and prepare myself for another day at work. My shirt says I love my job, I don’t love it, but I deal with it. I work at Texas Roadhouse, AKA The hell hole of music, lucky for me as a cook I get to listen to my iPod. My job is to either cook the bread or cook the chicken on the grill. It’s not a glamorous job but at least I make money. Right now I’m just barely making rent. The only things of value I own are my motorcycle and prized possession, my guitar.
I love my guitar, since I was young I wanted to play, but my father would only let me listen to classical music or other “stimulating” music. What an ass… He said I was never allowed to listen to rock music but obviously I did anyway. I kept all my rock stuff like my music, posters, and of course my guitar in the tree house I had as I kid. My Father never would have thought I would go there. Once I even snuck out to a local club where this new band called Young Guns was playing. They were really good and just made me love rock and metal more.
I had urges to go to concerts but when I tried to sneak out to see Green Day, my father caught me. I got beat that night and he put me in my room for 2 months, barred the windows and locked the door, only opening it to give me food once a day. He went crazy… I heard my mother’s shrieks daily. I tried so hard to break out, to help the one person left who showed me love but could never do it, I was too weak. I worked out every day so I could gain the strength to escape. One day… her screams stopped for good.
Two days later, as I was trying to break out again, The door latches break and I’m finally out. Father is gone somewhere so I run downstairs. The stench is terrible. I turn around the corner and see my Mother’s bloodied body. I run to her, I know that she is gone but I hold her close. I tell her that I will be ok and that I will escape. I sit there and cry for an hour before I hear the door unlocking. I set her down gently and run to the back door, knowing my only safe place to go is the tree house. I lay up there crying until night fall, that is the last time I ever cried. At night fall I gather up my CD’s, posters, guitar, and all the money I have been saving and stuff them into my back pack.
I run through the forest, trying to escape before morning. I know I am far enough so I walk, hitchhiking to the airport. After a 3 day trip I finally find my way to Miami. I find an apartment building desperate for people and get a great deal, but now I’m left with no money. So I got a job at Texas Roadhouse and that brings me to today.
I’m sorry for talking a lot I just think you should know my story before you judge me.
Work went by pretty fast today, I spend all my time listening to music and it really makes time go faster. When I get back to the apartment, I’m at my door before I realize I left backpack by my bike! I rush down the hall and end up running right into a girl carrying bags.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there.” I say helping her up on instinct but then I realized I talked out of turn… I flash back to my father slapping my full force across my face and rush away from the girl.
I hear her say “It’s fine…” Before I’m out of earshot. I feel bad for just running off, I guess even after a year of being away from my father I still feel like everyone is going to treat me the same way he did.
Finally, a new town, a fresh start away from my family, the only problem is I don’t know where to go from here. All my stuff (which isn’t much) is moved into my new apartment. I guess I should get a bank account set up or something. Gosh, I’m an idiot sometimes. I really should have thought everything through before actually doing this. Whatever, I needed to get away from my dad. He seem fine with finally getting rid of me so at least I know he won’t come after me, because believe me, he would.
I grab my sunglasses and head out the door to my bike. I know I should not spend more money but I think I need a car or something, Miami is huge. So I head off to the car dealership. Half of my money in my backpack, the rest is locked up safe.
A few hours later I have a used Honda Civic and am struggling to understand how Americans can drive on this side of the road! Now off to the bank to set up my account. Afterwards, I get some food and other supplies for cooking and stuff.
Wow, I have had a really busy first day here. Now for my last piece of business, I need a job. I run around from place to place. I finished applications for Red Robin, Denny’s, Olive Garden, and a strange place called Texas Roadhouse. That one is really my last choice, I hate country music and that is all they play there.
By the end of the day, I am exhausted. I go to my apartment with my arm full of bags. I get up to my floor, struggling under the weight of the bags when a man at least a head taller than me run right into me, knocking me down. I make a silly little oof noise and fall right on my bum.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t see you,” He says, pulling me to my feet.
“It’s fine, it was an accident.” I say brushing myself off. I look up to thank him for helping me up, but he was already gone. Well, that was strange. I didn’t even see his face. I think to myself but just shrug it off. I pick up my remaining bags and go into my apartment. I organize a little but I am so exhausted I just collapse into bed and fall asleep instantly.
Jake’s POV
I sit on the patio of my apartment, sipping coffee. I look down to see the people walking down the street, the cars going everywhere. A van pulls up, one of those from the airport. And someone gets out with about three bags of luggage and a bike. Must be the new person moving in down the hall. Maybe I’ll say hi later… Probably not. I don’t like meeting new people much. I’m more of a lone wolf.
I continue to stare out into the city. It’s always so hot here! Sometimes I wish I was back in England, but then I think about my father… I will never go back. I mean I miss my brother… sometimes, but I will never go back. This city moves as fast as London, except the traffic is on the wrong side.
I go back inside and prepare myself for another day at work. My shirt says I love my job, I don’t love it, but I deal with it. I work at Texas Roadhouse, AKA The hell hole of music, lucky for me as a cook I get to listen to my iPod. My job is to either cook the bread or cook the chicken on the grill. It’s not a glamorous job but at least I make money. Right now I’m just barely making rent. The only things of value I own are my motorcycle and prized possession, my guitar.
I love my guitar, since I was young I wanted to play, but my father would only let me listen to classical music or other “stimulating” music. What an ass… He said I was never allowed to listen to rock music but obviously I did anyway. I kept all my rock stuff like my music, posters, and of course my guitar in the tree house I had as I kid. My Father never would have thought I would go there. Once I even snuck out to a local club where this new band called Young Guns was playing. They were really good and just made me love rock and metal more.
I had urges to go to concerts but when I tried to sneak out to see Green Day, my father caught me. I got beat that night and he put me in my room for 2 months, barred the windows and locked the door, only opening it to give me food once a day. He went crazy… I heard my mother’s shrieks daily. I tried so hard to break out, to help the one person left who showed me love but could never do it, I was too weak. I worked out every day so I could gain the strength to escape. One day… her screams stopped for good.
Two days later, as I was trying to break out again, The door latches break and I’m finally out. Father is gone somewhere so I run downstairs. The stench is terrible. I turn around the corner and see my Mother’s bloodied body. I run to her, I know that she is gone but I hold her close. I tell her that I will be ok and that I will escape. I sit there and cry for an hour before I hear the door unlocking. I set her down gently and run to the back door, knowing my only safe place to go is the tree house. I lay up there crying until night fall, that is the last time I ever cried. At night fall I gather up my CD’s, posters, guitar, and all the money I have been saving and stuff them into my back pack.
I run through the forest, trying to escape before morning. I know I am far enough so I walk, hitchhiking to the airport. After a 3 day trip I finally find my way to Miami. I find an apartment building desperate for people and get a great deal, but now I’m left with no money. So I got a job at Texas Roadhouse and that brings me to today.
I’m sorry for talking a lot I just think you should know my story before you judge me.
Work went by pretty fast today, I spend all my time listening to music and it really makes time go faster. When I get back to the apartment, I’m at my door before I realize I left backpack by my bike! I rush down the hall and end up running right into a girl carrying bags.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there.” I say helping her up on instinct but then I realized I talked out of turn… I flash back to my father slapping my full force across my face and rush away from the girl.
I hear her say “It’s fine…” Before I’m out of earshot. I feel bad for just running off, I guess even after a year of being away from my father I still feel like everyone is going to treat me the same way he did.