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Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Action/Adventure · #1432564
A father beats his son. He moves away with his aunt to Seattle and starts a new life there
  I sat alone in my room, my knees pulled to my chest, rocking slowly to the sound of the stereo. I was waiting for my father to unleash his wrath on me, to scrutinize my every move, while I listened for his distant footsteps entering the house. My blue eyes never left the door as I reached over to the stereo to turn the volume down to wait silently.
  "Ronnie!" my father bellowed at the top of his lungs. "You come down here right now!"
  I slowly got up from my bed, opened the door and crept hesitantly to the top of the stairs. "Yes?" I answered my voice hardly louder than a whisper. My father was at the bottom of the stairs. You could see a vein pulsing in his head from where his light brown hair was falling out.
  "Where's my dinner?" he demanded.
  "I left it on the counter...b-b-by the sink."
  "Well it's cold now! Come down here and warm it up!"
  "Why don't you?" I spat at him.
  "Excuse me?"
  I could see the steam rising out of his ears like a train's whistle, and his wicked smile turn into a frightening scowl. He marched up the stairs so quickly that I hadn't even had time to turn away before he grabbed me by my collar. "You will not use that tone with me! You hear that, you ignorant boy?" His angry words frightened me and I fought to control the hot tears that threatened to fall from my eyes.
  He pushed me against the wall, pulled back his big hand and whacked me across the face. I fell on the floor, screaming. I could feel the blood filling my mouth.
  "Now, are you going to go heat my dinner?" he barked.
  I nodded. "Yes, sir," I croaked.
  I got up, willing my feet to shuffle forward as blood __my blood-- fell from my mouth and to the carpet.
  "I expect you to clean that up afterwards," he said, indicating the drops of blood staining the carpet.
  I reheat his dinner, and then ran up the stairs, ignoring the blood stains. I trudged into the bathroom and looked in the antique mirror to see that my hair was disheveled. Its usual neatness now stuck in every direction while blood soaked into my now damp hair. I tried to clean my face as best as I could, but found it useless so I grabbed a towel and ran to my room.
  Glancing nervously toward the door, I pressed the towel to my face as I took out my duffel bag and started stuffing everything in sight. Knowing that I wasn't being followed, I prepared to jump and slipped out my bedroom window on the second story to land on my back. I wished we'd had one of those convenient trees outside our front lawn so that its branches could catch me. I laid there for a minute, making sure nothing was broken, and that my father hadn't heard me. I was fine, but I could hear my father getting up from the kitchen table to see what all the commotion was about. I jumped up quickly and started running.
  From behind me, I heard my father yell, "Ronnie? Ronnie!" He charged at me, running as fast as he could. But he was old and his bones were weak, and I soon outran him.
  When I knew he wasn't following me anymore, I stopped to catch my breath. I couldn't believe it. I was free.
  I decided to head to the train station that had been my refuge since I was small. I used to go there to watch people. It was fascinating to see all the different places people went. The train station was close, so I continued running in the direction my brain told me to. I arrived at the station in ten minutes and hurried inside.
  Business men and women were milling around aimlessly, some drunk, others tired. I sat on the empty bench by the doors, making sure I was in view of everything. It was then that I saw a familiar face. My Aunt Lily was standing impatiently in line for tickets. She turned around suddenly to look at the times on the back wall, but instead her eyes caught mine and her hand flew to her mouth, as she stepped out of line and moved cautiously towards me. "Ronnie? Ronnie Parker? Is that you?" she asked.
  I smiled and nodded. She ran forward, hugging me, her cheeks streaked with tears.    "It's been so long," she sighed. "Why are you here?"
  "I don't have anywhere to go. And I can't live in that house anymore."
  She thought for a moment, her bottom lip protruding slightly. "I'm on my way back to Seattle, you know, and I've got enough money for an extra ticket. Would you like to come?" she asked.
  I deliberated for a moment, but to only ask myself where Seattle was. "Yes," I answered when I finally figured out.
  She grabbed my hand, then walked over to the end of the ticket line and waited.  "Two tickets from Anderson, California to Seattle, please," Lily said to the man at the ticket window when we got to the front. He handed her the tickets and we were off.
  After we got the tickets, she took me to the nearest train and dragged me to a seat in the back as the train slowly chugged to life. A few moments of silence passed before Lily said, "I'm surprised you remember me. The last time I saw you, was, well...you know." She smiled a sad smile that did not reach her eyes and only tugged at her lips slightly.
  I did know what she was talking about. She was talking about my mother's death ten years earlier. Aunt Lily was my mother's younger sister, so we had seen each other at her funeral.
  "Well your hair sure has grown out. How old are you now?" Lily asked.
  ൗ," I answered, my voice dry.
  "Oh," she said. I assumed this was not the answer she expected. I guess I looked kind of childlike with my face was crumpled in pain and my eyes red and puffy.
  She left me alone after that, leaving me to do whatever I pleased. After ten years of torture and abuse, I was finally able to think for myself, to do whatever I wanted. I reached up and touched my cheek. It was swollen and a scab had formed reaching from the middle of my cheek to my upper lip. It would turn into a scar, a constant reminder of my abusive father. I think he blamed me for my mother's death, and I agreed with him. If I hadn't run out in front of that car, she would still be here, I thought.
  A solitary tear ran down my cheek. I wiped it away swiftly, making sure Lily hadn't  seen me crying. She hadn't.
  I reclined my seat, and rested my head on the attached pillow. Before I even had time to clear my head, my nightmare had already started.
  I dreamed about a little boy holding hands with a young woman, whom I could only assume was his mother. The woman had just reached down to pick up a piece of trash, letting go of the boys hand for just a second. As she did this, the boy repeating his mother, also saw a piece of trash in the middle of the street. By the time the mother knew what was happening, her son was standing in the middle of the street with the paper in his hands, and right in the pathway of an 18-wheeler. She ran over to him, and pushed her son out of the way, but she didn't have time to move. She was going to die, and she knew it. This still didn't restrain her from moving her hands in front of her face and turning her head to the side. "No!" I screamed. But it was no use. I was too late. It was then that I realized who the pair was. This was me and my mother on the last day I saw her alive. I couldn't do anything as I saw the truck sail past and my mother was gone...
  "Come on, Ronnie! We're here," I heard someone say as cold hands shook me. Oh, it was just Lily, I remembered.
  I gathered my bag and jumped up, stepping on Lily's heels as we exited the train. It was slightly drizzling as I guessed it would. I used to do a lot of research on places when I visited the train station.
  Lily flagged down a taxi, and we hopped inside. Lily's thin frame and mine had a hard time trying to settle ourselves in comfortably in the cramped backseat, but we managed.
  Lily read off the address, and the taxi started inching out into the 8 o'clock traffic
  "How far away is that?" I asked.
  She thought for a minute. "About an hour, I think, with all this traffic."
I sighed. This would take forever. I tried to occupy myself with looking at the scenery. There were a bunch of coffee shops around. Too many, I thought. How much coffee could these people drink?! The most exciting thing I was able to see through the drizzle was this big tower with a needle on top. It was amazing!
  Lily caught me staring at it. "That's called the Space Needle. It's a revolving restaurant. It's got this observation deck that you can see Mt. Rainier from." She seemed caught up in it too. "I might take you there sometime."
  The taxi driver, after what seemed like forever, finally drove up to a high end apartment building. Lily handed him some cash, then opened her door. I did the same and was glad to be free of the cramped space.
  We stepped inside, the bright lights a relief after the dreary skies. Lily led me to a  door at the end of the first floor that opened into a beautifully decorated apartment. She pointed to a door. "That's the guest bedroom. You can sleep there...if you want." She was implying that I didn't have to stay with her.
  "Ok," I said as I walked into the guest room and put my stuff on the bed. I came back out and said, "I'm going out. I saw a park just outside and I'm in need of some fresh air. Do you mind?" I questioned.
  "No, not at all. Have fun!" she said, shooing me out the door. "I can tell you need it. Don't stay out too long. I'm going to make dinner soon. Do you still like my Chicken and Dumplings?"
  "Yeah. That sounds great!" I said.
  I turned to leave. "Oh, and Ronnie? Please do be careful, and bring a raincoat," Lily said.
  "I'll be fine," I promised, smiling.
  I walked the length of the hallway and then stepped outside. I ambled over to a nearby bench situated in front of an enormous sycamore tree. I thought about sitting on the bench, but I was sick of benches so I flopped down onto the damp ground and leaned against the big sycamore tree.
  I don't know how long I sat out there but after awhile I realized how nice it felt to be outside with the cold breeze blowing my hair and the rain splashing my skin. It reminded me of when my mother used to blow onto the back of my neck until I laughed. Oh, how I missed my mother. But there was no going back to those times anymore. I liked how my life was going right now. The only thing I dreaded was the phone call I knew I would have to make soon to my father. I sighed. Why ruin the moment?
 
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