The Abused Runaway

Chapter One

Sasha’s POV

After standing there for a few moments listening to them talk to the police officers and volunteers who helped them find their “precious” daughter, my so-called parents thanked them and we left. 

From there we went to our house, and I knew what was going to happen as soon as I walked in the door. And as I expected, almost on cue, SMACK! And before I knew it I was on the floor.

“Get up!” He yelled, and I did. “How dare you try to run away again! What do you have to say for yourself?” He asked me. “I’m sorry” I mumbled. “What was that? I can’t hear you.” “I said I’m sorry.” 

“And?” Charlene asked. “And it won’t happen again.” I looked at her with anger in my eyes. 

“That’s better. But for some reason I don’t believe you. Do you know what that reason is darling?”  I answer her in a sarcastic tone, “no I sure don’t madam, what could that dear reason be?” Smack! I could feel the burn on my cheek from her smack. “Now, now, now. Let’s not be sarcastic dear. You keep trying to run away and you never succeed. So just stop trying. How does that sound?” She smiled a sinister smile and looked at me with that glint in her eye. She’s probably going to hit me again, or starve me. Hell maybe even both again. Or maybe my dear father would join in on a beating. I don’t answer her. “Well, now that, that’s out of the way, let’s work on your attitude.” And with that my so called father, with the same smile on his face as my mother, knocked me down with a swift punch to the left side of my face. After I got up off of the floor I looked at him, trying to ignore the pain of my throbbing cheek. 

I have kind of gotten used to this routine, somewhat at least. The hitting and kicking still hurt, as well as the verbal abuse, but not as bad as it used to. When my father an I were done staring at each other, his smile faded when he got bored of looking at me, he sent me up to my room. 

“Get out of here, go to your room. I’m tired of looking at your stupid ass” he said to me. “Without dinner” he added as I was walking down the stairs. 

Yes my room was in the basement, which I didn’t mind much because it had more room than my attic bedroom in our old house. But they liked the basement more because they couldn’t hear me much while I was walking around and s**t, but also because I was “out of their way more” as they would often tell me. 

My cheek is going to bruise and tomorrow is Monday, which means school. I had to learn to cover my bruises all over my body with makeup at an age where most parents wouldn't let their daughter even have makeup. I had to make it look like there was nothing there or I wouldn’t get beaten worse when I got home. No one could even have suspicions. So I could probably be called a professional by now.

So when I got downstairs, I ate food that I snuck down to my room and hidden, pretty well I might add, in a small refrigerator that I also snuck down there. I basically had a whole kitchen in my basement that my parents didn’t know about. That’s a bonus of having a room with some space and one that was easier to keep things quiet, and having a talent for hiding things of course.

“Time for bed!” Unlike most teenagers and young adults, I looked forward to going to school. It was a way I could escape from this hell, at least for a while. I usually went early everyday, the earlier I left the longer I was away from those people. I also have a job, so on my way to school I would stop and grab a bite to eat so I didn’t have to eat breakfast with them.

The only downside is I was only able to keep a small portion of my paycheck because my “parents” would take the rest for themselves.

I wake up at 6 o’clock in the morning and get ready to leave and I’m out of the door before anyone else is even awake like always. So I walked over to the small cafe that’s kind of in between my house and high school and as soon as I walked in I was immediately relaxed by all the familiar faces. I’ve become close with almost everyone who works at this cafe, we’re almost like a family there. 

“Hey hun, the usual today?” Roberta, the head waitress, asks me with the usual smile on her face. “Yes please, thank you Roberta” I say as she’s already getting it ready for me. I only wait a few minutes before she brings me a muffin and a coffee, this time it’s a banana nut muffin! She always makes my coffee the way I like it, but she’ll switch up the flavor of the muffin every now and again. 

This is the place that I feel the safest. It’s usually busy, which means my parents act like loving parents whenever they come here, which isn’t often thank god. 

“How are you today sugar? Are you ok?” Roberta is one of the few people who kind of know what goes on. She doesn’t know the extent of it, and she doesn’t know about the abuse, but she knows about my paychecks. She often gives me discounts or doesn’t make me pay because of this, even though I insist on paying.

“I’m fine Roberta. It’s just the usual. Is Lisa working today?” Lisa is my best friend, we grew up together, but even she only knows as much as Roberta knows. I hide it very well, just like most things.

“Not until tomorrow after school sweetie. You can come by and see her then if you’re not working. You know we all love having you here!”

“I know Roberta, thank you. I love being here, you guys are my family.” 

As I finished my sentence the bell on the front doors went off, and Roberta looked like she has just seen an angel or something.