The Runaway

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Summary

17-year-old Marley is stuck between her abusive mom and lately kind of distant boyfriend. Then she learns she’s pregnant, her boyfriend breaks up with her, and her world, which was splinterd and cracked already, shatters. She decides to run away, which leads to many adventures along the way.

Genre:
Adventure / Romance
Author:
Demon Slayer
Status:
Ongoing
Chapters:
17
Rating:
4.0 1 review
Age Rating:
16+

Chapter 1

A bright light shines in my eyes. Am I close to Heaven? Maybe I have finally escaped from the mess that is my life. But then I wake up to a throbbing pain in my shoulder. Shyanne, the woman who is supposedly my mother, is standing in my doorway, hate painting every one of her features. She leaves, sashaying away. I get up with the help of my old dresser. It creaks under my 80 pounds of weight. I’m on the smaller side. I count my new bruises, large purple spots dotting my legs and arms and everywhere. All over forgetting to buy the groceries. I don’t cry. I stopped crying after the first few times she hit me. I just hide a giant scar under my bangs and try and focus myself enough to get dressed in faded jeans and a plain white long sleeved shirt. I take a deep breath and walk past the kitchen, willing myself not to try and sneak even the smallest bite of food. I snatch up my beat-up book bag and slide into my scuffed-up black Converse. One has a hole in the toe. I can’t remember the last time Shyanne made a meal for me like a mom or bought me new shoes. I found these on the top shelf of her closet. Good thing she didn’t recognize them. I get all of my clothes from a neighbor that has constant growth spurts. I walk to Kayla’s house, head down. She is my best friend. I haven’t told her about my mom. I haven’t told anyone. But I stop by her house every morning for breakfast. She makes awesome cinnamon rolls and always saves me two. I wake up at 6 to avoid Shyanne, get ready quickly, and leave at 6:20. My school starts at 9:30, so I hang out at Kaylas house, then at 9, we start walking the 15 minute walk. We try not to risk being late. Always together, never apart. That’s our motto and promise since kindergarten. She was the new rich kid from New York, I was the only kid wearing long shirts and pants on an 80 degree day. We clicked immediately. That was the one time anyone was ever jealous of me. I shiver in the early morning chill. Her house is about a block away. I kick a rock, wincing when it goes in the hole in the toe of my shoe and I step on it. I shake my foot until it falls out and keep walking until I see a huge house among the cozy cottages near it. I slip in the back and find two cinnamon rolls waiting on a plate. I sit down in the seat in front of it and start picking at one of them. A sticky note next to it says “getting ready, b down in a min!” I smile weakly. A sharp, searing pain spreads across my forehead. I’m not surprised, but it still hurts. I gasp and put my head in my hands. A single tear slips out and rolls down my cheek. I wipe it away as I hear footsteps coming down the stairs. Kayla comes up behind me and squeezes my shoulder. Her normally long, voluminous black waves hang in limp, wet strands over her shoulders. Her trendy outfit, ripped jeans and a clingy, sexy tee, gives away why boys stare after her as she struts down the hallway. But she doesn’t give a crap about the boys. She’s lesbian. She knew from kindergarten that she liked girls, but it wasn’t until third grade that she asked her mom for a therapist to help figure out the correct title for her sexuality. I find it kind of crazy that she still hasn’t come out to anyone except me yet. She sits next to me and watches me eat. “Mar, you are so skinny. What’s going on? Are your eating habits okay?” I want to say no, Shyanne never feeds me and this is the only thing I eat all day apart from a few apples and a granola bar, plus a bag of chips if I’m lucky. But I don’t. I just nod, finish my cinnamon rolls, and start washing the plate. “Mind if I sleep a little more? I...” I want to tell her so bad, but that could put both of us in trouble. “I didn’t get much sleep last night,” I finish. She nods. I lay down on the couch, the fuzzy, squishy cushions supporting me as I drift off. I am vaguely aware of Kayla laying a blanket over me and tucking a pillow beneath my head. Screams. Bloody, awful screams. Anguished. A baby crying, wailing its little heart out. Raspy, quick breaths. Running. I wake up in a cold sweat, tears dotting my eyes. I take a deep breath and check the clock. 8. One more hour. I find Kayla up in her giant room. Her eyes travel to me. “Mar... you don’t look so good.” I nod. “I don’t feel g-“ And I can’t finish my sentence before I need to rush to the bathroom, clapping my hand over my mouth. “What the hell?” Kayla says when I walk back to her room. “I... don’t know. Probably just a virus.” I say, shrugging. But I know it’s something more. I have had to rush to the bathroom a lot lately, whether it’s to pee or to be sick. Those are symptoms of more than a stomach virus. But I push the thought away and let Kayla tuck me into the bed in the guest room.
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