Chapter 1Mature

A romance story - between a woman running from her past and the man who was her childhood sweetheart. She left the small town years before and no one knows why. Why has she come back? Who is she running from? Can he protect her?

I run around the apartment, filled with unconscious men and women, who are scantily clad. The scent of alcohol stings the air and drugs were slipping out of their pockets. Devon is gone on a trip for now, which is good, otherwise I would never get out of this hell-hole. I gathered my clothes, a deep cut still running the length of my arm from last night, got some drinks, and stole some money-like he needed anymore anyway.

I wrap a bandage around my arm, looking in sadness at all these terrible people. They had to have good lives once, right? I hope Devon wouldn’t be back for a few days, even though he  said he would be back early. He didn’t specify, so I was uncertain. Where I was heading to, I need a day and a half just to drive there. I have an appointment in a few days with a real-estate agent for my apartment. I slip on my silver sandals and walk softly through the mass of people.

A hand suddenly wraps around my bare ankle and my heart jumps through my chest. I couldn’t be this close and have my dream taken away. I couldn’t live in this hell-hole anymore! I look down and see it was a Chinese man, two women draped over him like cloth. “Please don’t go, Angel,” He slurs, still intoxicated and high.

I yank my ankle away from him and run out the door. I steady myself because he has spies everywhere in this neighborhood. I set my bags in my blue truck and step closer to it, starting to get in, when I see Sandy wave across the street with a fake smile. She tells Devon everything about me. I knew she wants to take my place, and, as far as I was concerned, she could go right ahead. I hate that bastard. He has ruined my life.

I wave back, an equally fake smile plastered on my face, and step into the truck. I reverse slowly and go in the opposite direction from this damn city. I am tired of the cold, tall buildings, the painful pavement, the sidewalks filled with so many people. The people are the worst. They are rude, arrogant, and painful to deal with. I want to choke them on a daily basis.

I drive for a long while, blaring my metal music, which Devon never let me listen to in his presence. Normally, I wouldn’t turn my music like up so loud, but I was on a highway, and people would look at me oddly if I wasn’t. For hours I drove, before pulling over to a little diner in some small town. It has small fields of colorful flowers surrounding it and beautiful, cozy little houses dotting the landscape. I rushed in the diner, hurriedly eating my meal for the day.

I rush back to my car before sighing and doing something I have wanted to do for years. It is dark out, so I am able to do this. I take the flimsy, sparkly dress off, wipe all my make-up off, shake off my expensive sandals, and throw my girly bangles out the window. My hair is released from its tight braid and I fluff it out. I know I look like shit, but I don’t care. For the first time in years, I pull a simple pair of blue jeans and a baggy t-shirt on.

Devon would murder me if he sees how I look right now, but, hopefully, I don’t have to worry about him. I feel free and happy, the wind brushing an icy coldness against my skin. I start the truck up and leave, enjoying the ride to my hometown. I make sure to throw out my phone, which I am sure that Devon tracks, out the window. He is extremely paranoid.

I slow down a little and turn down my music, not wanting to disturb the quiet town. I know people might already be asleep. I like driving a night because it seems a little more peaceful. I see the yellow and pink, newly painted, town sign, innocently welcoming me into their mist. They still haven’t changed the colors, in all these years, I think in amazement. Well, some things never change.

The trees and darkness fall over the road, sheltering the sharp curve from my view. I am still going entirely too fast for this damn curve and brake suddenly letting a cop car go past. I move my car over, so I am not almost hitting people on the other side of the road, and drive towards the town, looking for a hotel or something to stay in. I have hoped that the cop didn’t notice me, or is ignoring me, but no such luck.

The cop comes back and gestures for me to pull over so I did, not wanting him to have any excuse for arresting me. That would not be good. I hold back a gasp as I see who the cop is when he gets out of the car. I stare at him through my blurry window, not believing it. “Since you are a newcomer, just passing through, I will let you off easy, but-“

Josh gets cut off by his surprise as he looks up at me. I have lowered the windows, so as not to anger him and he sees me, my face bruised. This is not good, I mentally think. “Please,” I say softly, impatience pouring through me. “Look, just give me the ticket already. I am tired and I have a meeting with someone tomorrow.”

“No, ”Josh growls. “You are coming with me.”

He is fiercely scowling and I flinch, taken aback by his anger. My problems have nothing to do with him. Why is he so angry, so upset? “Why?” I ask in a small voice, scared by his outrage.

“You need help!” Josh roars in anger and frustration.

I lean back a little in the truck. I wince as he pulls open the door of my beloved truck, grabbing my arm and pulling me outside. My cut throbs in protest and I feel breathless at the pain. All I can focus on is my arm, heating up with deadly swiftness. The bandage rips off and I flinch as it pulls at my tender, pale skin. It flutters to the ground and I stare at it, feeling suddenly weak. I have always been a weak person, I think to myself.

The entire drive there, my cut has been bleeding, soaking the now crimson bandage that lies on the ground. My body sways in agony and weakness. Pain and remembrance swirl through my body. Will I ever make it without Devon there to monetarily support me, physically and emotionally hurting me? Is what he said true? Do I need him to survive? I sincerely hope not.

 

My bleeding body crumples, falling onto the ground. My eyes blankly see the cover of darkness surrounding us. He leans over me, his face blocking my vision, and I lay there like a corpse, fading into the earth. The last thing I see as I go to sleep is my high school sweetheart’s concerned face above me. 

I run around the apartment, filled with unconscious men and women, who are scantily clad. The scent of alcohol stings the air and drugs were slipping out of their pockets. Devon is gone on a trip for now, which is good, otherwise I would never get out of this hell-hole. I gathered my clothes, a deep cut still running the length of my arm from last night, got some drinks, and stole some money-like he needed anymore anyway.

I wrap a bandage around my arm, looking in sadness at all these terrible people. They had to have good lives once, right? I hope Devon wouldn’t be back for a few days, even though he  said he would be back early. He didn’t specify, so I was uncertain. Where I was heading to, I need a day and a half just to drive there. I have an appointment in a few days with a real-estate agent for my apartment. I slip on my silver sandals and walk softly through the mass of people.

A hand suddenly wraps around my bare ankle and my heart jumps through my chest. I couldn’t be this close and have my dream taken away. I couldn’t live in this hell-hole anymore! I look down and see it was a Chinese man, two women draped over him like cloth. “Please don’t go, Angel,” He slurs, still intoxicated and high.

I yank my ankle away from him and run out the door. I steady myself because he has spies everywhere in this neighborhood. I set my bags in my blue truck and step closer to it, starting to get in, when I see Sandy wave across the street with a fake smile. She tells Devon everything about me. I knew she wants to take my place, and, as far as I was concerned, she could go right ahead. I hate that bastard. He has ruined my life.

I wave back, an equally fake smile plastered on my face, and step into the truck. I reverse slowly and go in the opposite direction from this damn city. I am tired of the cold, tall buildings, the painful pavement, the sidewalks filled with so many people. The people are the worst. They are rude, arrogant, and painful to deal with. I want to choke them on a daily basis.

I drive for a long while, blaring my metal music, which Devon never let me listen to in his presence. Normally, I wouldn’t turn my music like up so loud, but I was on a highway, and people would look at me oddly if I wasn’t. For hours I drove, before pulling over to a little diner in some small town. It has small fields of colorful flowers surrounding it and beautiful, cozy little houses dotting the landscape. I rushed in the diner, hurriedly eating my meal for the day.

I rush back to my car before sighing and doing something I have wanted to do for years. It is dark out, so I am able to do this. I take the flimsy, sparkly dress off, wipe all my make-up off, shake off my expensive sandals, and throw my girly bangles out the window. My hair is released from its tight braid and I fluff it out. I know I look like shit, but I don’t care. For the first time in years, I pull a simple pair of blue jeans and a baggy t-shirt on.

Devon would murder me if he sees how I look right now, but, hopefully, I don’t have to worry about him. I feel free and happy, the wind brushing an icy coldness against my skin. I start the truck up and leave, enjoying the ride to my hometown. I make sure to throw out my phone, which I am sure that Devon tracks, out the window. He is extremely paranoid.

I slow down a little and turn down my music, not wanting to disturb the quiet town. I know people might already be asleep. I like driving a night because it seems a little more peaceful. I see the yellow and pink, newly painted, town sign, innocently welcoming me into their mist. They still haven’t changed the colors, in all these years, I think in amazement. Well, some things never change.

The trees and darkness fall over the road, sheltering the sharp curve from my view. I am still going entirely too fast for this damn curve and brake suddenly letting a cop car go past. I move my car over, so I am not almost hitting people on the other side of the road, and drive towards the town, looking for a hotel or something to stay in. I have hoped that the cop didn’t notice me, or is ignoring me, but no such luck.

The cop comes back and gestures for me to pull over so I did, not wanting him to have any excuse for arresting me. That would not be good. I hold back a gasp as I see who the cop is when he gets out of the car. I stare at him through my blurry window, not believing it. “Since you are a newcomer, just passing through, I will let you off easy, but-“

Josh gets cut off by his surprise as he looks up at me. I have lowered the windows, so as not to anger him and he sees me, my face bruised. This is not good, I mentally think. “Please,” I say softly, impatience pouring through me. “Look, just give me the ticket already. I am tired and I have a meeting with someone tomorrow.”

“No, ”Josh growls. “You are coming with me.”

He is fiercely scowling and I flinch, taken aback by his anger. My problems have nothing to do with him. Why is he so angry, so upset? “Why?” I ask in a small voice, scared by his outrage.

“You need help!” Josh roars in anger and frustration.

I lean back a little in the truck. I wince as he pulls open the door of my beloved truck, grabbing my arm and pulling me outside. My cut throbs in protest and I feel breathless at the pain. All I can focus on is my arm, heating up with deadly swiftness. The bandage rips off and I flinch as it pulls at my tender, pale skin. It flutters to the ground and I stare at it, feeling suddenly weak. I have always been a weak person, I think to myself.

The entire drive there, my cut has been bleeding, soaking the now crimson bandage that lies on the ground. My body sways in agony and weakness. Pain and remembrance swirl through my body. Will I ever make it without Devon there to monetarily support me, physically and emotionally hurting me? Is what he said true? Do I need him to survive? I sincerely hope not.

 

My bleeding body crumples, falling onto the ground. My eyes blankly see the cover of darkness surrounding us. He leans over me, his face blocking my vision, and I lay there like a corpse, fading into the earth. The last thing I see as I go to sleep is my high school sweetheart’s concerned face above me. 

I run around the apartment, filled with unconscious men and women, who are scantily clad. The scent of alcohol stings the air and drugs were slipping out of their pockets. Devon is gone on a trip for now, which is good, otherwise I would never get out of this hell-hole. I gathered my clothes, a deep cut still running the length of my arm from last night, got some drinks, and stole some money-like he needed anymore anyway.

I wrap a bandage around my arm, looking in sadness at all these terrible people. They had to have good lives once, right? I hope Devon wouldn’t be back for a few days, even though he  said he would be back early. He didn’t specify, so I was uncertain. Where I was heading to, I need a day and a half just to drive there. I have an appointment in a few days with a real-estate agent for my apartment. I slip on my silver sandals and walk softly through the mass of people.

A hand suddenly wraps around my bare ankle and my heart jumps through my chest. I couldn’t be this close and have my dream taken away. I couldn’t live in this hell-hole anymore! I look down and see it was a Chinese man, two women draped over him like cloth. “Please don’t go, Angel,” He slurs, still intoxicated and high.

I yank my ankle away from him and run out the door. I steady myself because he has spies everywhere in this neighborhood. I set my bags in my blue truck and step closer to it, starting to get in, when I see Sandy wave across the street with a fake smile. She tells Devon everything about me. I knew she wants to take my place, and, as far as I was concerned, she could go right ahead. I hate that bastard. He has ruined my life.

I wave back, an equally fake smile plastered on my face, and step into the truck. I reverse slowly and go in the opposite direction from this damn city. I am tired of the cold, tall buildings, the painful pavement, the sidewalks filled with so many people. The people are the worst. They are rude, arrogant, and painful to deal with. I want to choke them on a daily basis.

I drive for a long while, blaring my metal music, which Devon never let me listen to in his presence. Normally, I wouldn’t turn my music like up so loud, but I was on a highway, and people would look at me oddly if I wasn’t. For hours I drove, before pulling over to a little diner in some small town. It has small fields of colorful flowers surrounding it and beautiful, cozy little houses dotting the landscape. I rushed in the diner, hurriedly eating my meal for the day.

I rush back to my car before sighing and doing something I have wanted to do for years. It is dark out, so I am able to do this. I take the flimsy, sparkly dress off, wipe all my make-up off, shake off my expensive sandals, and throw my girly bangles out the window. My hair is released from its tight braid and I fluff it out. I know I look like shit, but I don’t care. For the first time in years, I pull a simple pair of blue jeans and a baggy t-shirt on.

Devon would murder me if he sees how I look right now, but, hopefully, I don’t have to worry about him. I feel free and happy, the wind brushing an icy coldness against my skin. I start the truck up and leave, enjoying the ride to my hometown. I make sure to throw out my phone, which I am sure that Devon tracks, out the window. He is extremely paranoid.

I slow down a little and turn down my music, not wanting to disturb the quiet town. I know people might already be asleep. I like driving a night because it seems a little more peaceful. I see the yellow and pink, newly painted, town sign, innocently welcoming me into their mist. They still haven’t changed the colors, in all these years, I think in amazement. Well, some things never change.

The trees and darkness fall over the road, sheltering the sharp curve from my view. I am still going entirely too fast for this damn curve and brake suddenly letting a cop car go past. I move my car over, so I am not almost hitting people on the other side of the road, and drive towards the town, looking for a hotel or something to stay in. I have hoped that the cop didn’t notice me, or is ignoring me, but no such luck.

The cop comes back and gestures for me to pull over so I did, not wanting him to have any excuse for arresting me. That would not be good. I hold back a gasp as I see who the cop is when he gets out of the car. I stare at him through my blurry window, not believing it. “Since you are a newcomer, just passing through, I will let you off easy, but-“

Josh gets cut off by his surprise as he looks up at me. I have lowered the windows, so as not to anger him and he sees me, my face bruised. This is not good, I mentally think. “Please,” I say softly, impatience pouring through me. “Look, just give me the ticket already. I am tired and I have a meeting with someone tomorrow.”

“No, ”Josh growls. “You are coming with me.”

He is fiercely scowling and I flinch, taken aback by his anger. My problems have nothing to do with him. Why is he so angry, so upset? “Why?” I ask in a small voice, scared by his outrage.

“You need help!” Josh roars in anger and frustration.

I lean back a little in the truck. I wince as he pulls open the door of my beloved truck, grabbing my arm and pulling me outside. My cut throbs in protest and I feel breathless at the pain. All I can focus on is my arm, heating up with deadly swiftness. The bandage rips off and I flinch as it pulls at my tender, pale skin. It flutters to the ground and I stare at it, feeling suddenly weak. I have always been a weak person, I think to myself.

The entire drive there, my cut has been bleeding, soaking the now crimson bandage that lies on the ground. My body sways in agony and weakness. Pain and remembrance swirl through my body. Will I ever make it without Devon there to monetarily support me, physically and emotionally hurting me? Is what he said true? Do I need him to survive? I sincerely hope not.

 

My bleeding body crumples, falling onto the ground. My eyes blankly see the cover of darkness surrounding us. He leans over me, his face blocking my vision, and I lay there like a corpse, fading into the earth. The last thing I see as I go to sleep is my high school sweetheart’s concerned face above me. 

The End

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