"Run Hide Don't get caught" I ran as fast as I could, I had my backpack on with my very few possessions as I ran through the woods behind my house. I had panicked. My father is dead. Am I happy? I'm not sure. After being a human punching bag my entire life I don't know if I can truly be happy. I don't understand what I did wrong, why I was never enough. Why I wasn't capable of love. Why I was always left behind. Why my own parents hated me. My mom died when I was young. She overdosed on the drugs that ran her life. My father was no better, he was either too high to know I was home, or too drunk to leave me alone. I was trying to get away, get away before I can be caught. Today was my breaking point. I was tired. I was tired of the cards I was dealt. The kids at school made fun of me because I was smaller than them. I was dirty. My clothes had holes, and my shoes to small. I didn't have the money for the pizza party. So my teacher made me sit outside the classroom. I got to hear all the kids laughing at me, that my parents couldn't spare the $8 to buy me a slice of pizza, a Capri-Sun, and a cupcake. I sat there wondering what I did wrong. What I could've possibly done to deserve the abuse, neglect, humiliation, and the loneliness. Nobody wanted to be my friend because I was dirty and small. The teachers didn't care that my parents were never at the programs, that they never showed up for any teacher meetings. No matter how many notes they sent home. They didn't care that I didn't have school supplies. They only cared if I did my schoolwork and I was there. Maybe that's why they didn't like me. I was at school maybe 2 days out of the week. I never completed my schoolwork. I wanted to. I wanted to be smart, and have at least the teacher be proud of me. But I was either too far to see the board. Or to behind to understand what had happened. I had plenty of notes sent home, some summoning my parents to school, most for truancy. I sat there crying in the hallway. Crying because I couldn't do anything right. But in a fraction of a second my thoughts changed. Why was it my fault? Why was I always the one to blame? I did everything as best as I could. I tried to follow the rules but when I did they changed. They changed the rules to make me loose. It wasn't my fault I was small, or dirty, or stupid. I would never be able to win. I went from crying because I was upset to gritting my teeth from anger. It wasn't my fault and I would be dammed if I let them make me think I was. I stormed into the classroom angry, more angry than I ever had been. The teacher asked me why I was there, tried to tell me to leave. I looked at her. I saw the extra slices of pizza, the extra brownies and Capri-Suns and I snapped.

"FUCK YOU, FUCK YOUR RULES FUCK YOUR PARTY, FUCK YOU ALL!" I yelled with a fury I didn't know I possessed. I walked up to the teacher grabbed a slice of pizza, a Capri-Sun and a brownie and ran out of the classroom. The classroom erupted with chaos. Everyone screaming, some crying, some mad but I didn't care. I walked out of the school angry. It wasn't my fault, and I'd be dammed if I'd let it. I ran home. My stomach more full than it had been in years.

I walked inside not expecting to see my father in the kitchen. I froze. "What are you doing here?" I froze. "I said, what are you doing here?" He was getting mad. So he was drunk today. That wasn't a good start to this conversation. "I left school early." I told him trying to inch my way out of the door. "Oh you did? Since when were you allowed to do that?" He asked me as he walked towards me with a grin. I bolted. Running for the door I almost got there. But I wasn't quick enough. He grabbed my neck and threw me behind him. I fell on the ground in the kitchen. I looked up at him as he approached me. "So the bastard thinks he can just do whatever he wants now huh?" He asked me as I stood up. Using the counter to help me up. My head hurt from slamming it on the tiles. My vision was blurrier than usual. My back was on fire from the healing cuts on my back. My stomach was nothing short of agonizing from the pain. The bruises reminding me that they were there. I looked to my right and saw a knife. His favorite knife. He stood over me and asked me the same question. I looked at the knife and within a second I grabbed it and held it in front of me. "I'm tired of this. I'm tired of being told I'm useless, being called names, and being called weak. I'm done. Do you understand me?" I asked him. He stood there stunned before an angry look crossed his face. Before he could say anything I yelled at him "DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME? I'M DONE OKAY? I WON'T LET YOU FUCKING HIT ME ANYMORE YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE!" He charged at me. Before he could get any close I stab him. The knife going straight through. A weird sound escaped his lips. I reared back and stabbed him again. Over. And Over. And Over again. I don't remember how many times I stabbed him. I looked down, he was barely breathing. Gasping those painful breaths that I recall myself taking so many times. I looked over him. His eyes finding mine. I held the knife up to his throat. He tried to talk but before he could make a sound I whispered in his ears. "You're finally getting what you deserved. Your little bitch isn't so scared anymore now." Before he could say I anything I ran the knife over his throat. I stood up and looked down. I looked at my hands. I was in shock. I snapped. I snapped and killed my father. I couldn't think. I walked over to his room. I looked in the bathroom and saw myself covered in blood. My face, hands, clothes, everything. I looked towards the shower. I turned it on. I got in. Clothes and all and stood there. The water hot. Burning my skin. I looked around found a soap bar and washcloth. I took my clothes off and washed my body. In the shower I came up with a plan. Run. Hide. Get Away. I found a bag in his closet. I put on some of my other clothes. Some sweatpants that were baggy but to short so they came up halfway to my calves. A black graphic tee, and a black hoodie on. I packed light. I knew I had to run, run before he was found which will hopefully take a while. With no job, no friends, no phone I didn't know who would try and come find him. I packed all my clothes, my pajama pants, other pair of sweatpants, three pairs of underwear, my five shirts, and one other hoodie. I put my blanket in there. I went through my father's room. I grabbed all the cash he had. Surprisingly he had $741. I grabbed the knife. I grabbed the loaf of bread, peanut butter, and jelly. I looked at the clock. It was 4:23 pm. I looked at my father one more time. Then. I ran. The rain was freezing. Temperatures lower than they had been all year. All I could focus on was the rain, and the voices in my head. The voices told me to run, to run until I was safe. I didn't know if I could ever truly be safe. I couldn't hear anything besides the voices and the roaring in my ears. My head hurt. My feet hurt My stomach hurts Everything hurts I was going to be sick No, I don't have time for that. Find shelter, find safety. I cannot rest until I am safe. Until nobody can get me. Not anymore. I was done being a human punching bag, I was tired of being the one left behind. The one not good enough. I was tired of everything.

———————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————— And there's the prologue. I love these lost sibling stories. Seriously they're some of my favorite. If y'all have any to recommend please do. What did y'all think about this chapter? It made sense? No plot holes? This is my first story I am actively trying to complete so criticism is welcome. (Just be nice with it)

-1520 words