A/N: A story I long started but never got to finish. Thought it would be interesting to put it back on :) Enjoy.
Prologue
She had to escape.
There was no way she could endure anymore pain, could not take another beating or the sound of his screaming voice.
You worthless piece of trash! No one will ever love you.
You do not fucking deserve to live!
You'll never be good enough!
You'll never be smart enough!
You'll never be the daughter I wanted you to be!
Those words.
The words that had sent her to hell every time she had heard them rang loudly in her ears. He made his point crystal clear during the first few times. Now, all they did was create holes in her chest. Holes that had gotten larger and larger at each beating she had received.
She needed to get out of this hell hole no matter what. She didn't care if she was left homeless or starving. Anything was better than seeing him. Anything was better that those never ending blows. Anything.
She sighed and swallowed back the tears and the lump that had formed deep inside her throat. She would not cry, she’d promised herself that much. Looking at her watch with a hurried glance, she had noticed she had less than two hours to pack her necessities and leave without a trace.
Quickly, almost with an inhumanly speed, she packed her clothes into a single duffel bag, shoving only necessary items that she could think of.
He'll find you. You know he will. He's the chief of the police for God's sake!
No he won’t, she had tried to convince herself many times, rummaging through her mind for reasons to why he wouldn’t. She’d clear her secret bank account, take all her IDs with her and hide them until she was a legal adult. He would never find her; he’d have no reason to.
The bag was almost full. She ran downstairs and grabbed anything else that she could find, and ran back upstairs again to fill it.
She locked her bathroom and bedroom door, a technique that would probably save her time. Those places would unavoidably be the primary locations he would search. He’d most likely scream at her to come downstairs, and when he’d receive no reply, he'd barge upstairs and try to open the door. After breaking down the door, he'd be angrier than ever, and then search her bathroom which would be locked as well.
She could see the scene play almost perfectly in her head: his livid face, purple and fuming with anger when he’d find no one in the house.
She had inwardly grinned in her head. If her situation wasn’t so bad, she would have undeniably laughed. But seeing the reason for it, sadness consumed her. She had to leave her own home.
She checked to see if she had enough bus tickets and grabbed the money that was left on the counter the day before.
Unknown to him, she had been collecting money for almost two years, when all the mess had started. Fortunately Lana was smart enough to open a bank account for Scarlett just before she had died. He knew nothing of the account and Scarlett could take the money anytime she had the need for it.
Hopefully she had five grand saved there, just in case of an emergency.
Looking back one last time at the tasteless living room, she made sure she forgot nothing. With a heavy sigh, she stepped out the lonely looking door and walked out, not bothering to lock the door behind her. Her carelessness was too evident but it wasn’t her house anymore. She was a stranger the day her mother’s bloody figure was driven to the hospital. Her father had made that clear.
She took the bus to the nearest bank and cashed out all the money she had in her account. A total of 6500 dollars was what she had received from the teller, who had looked at her with a strange expression.
Ignoring her, Scarlett placed the money in an envelope and sealed it tightly. She opened her bag and situated it deep inside, between her clothes.
She continued walking for ten minutes until she had reached the subway station. The fact that it was very close to where she had lived made matters so much easier to accomplish.
One thing she knew for certain. Brooklyn wasn’t a place she was going back to anytime soon. Her father would have to find another way to release his anger, and for once, she wasn’t going to be a victim.
As she was being carried away by the loud noise of the subway, she was recalled with a story her mom had told her when she was still a child. She closed her eyes and remembered her mother’s soft and melodic voice. As the memories started to fade away into dust, her voice still stuck to her no matter where she went.
She could never forget the kindness her mother carried within herself. She could not forget the amount of time she spent raising Scarlett. Although she had not been the most responsible, she was the best mother Scarlett could ask for.
Scarlett didn’t realize she was crying until she had opened her eyes. She forced her tears back, the promise she made herself appearing in her head. She had to be strong, if not for her then at least for her dead mother. Her mother would have wanted her to move on and that’s exactly what she was planning on doing.
She didn't know what life was going to throw on her, but she knew that something was waiting for her out there.
Change was coming.
She could feel it her bones.
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