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Pretty Guardian Inuyasha Vice Captain
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 Posted: Thu Jul 20, 2006 1:36 pm
Ingrid's Point of View
PIIING!
I watched as the shiny metal pot flipped and descending onto the cold white tile of the kitchen floor, then sound of it over ruling my own mother's high pitch tone. A few more clanks and pings could be heard throughout the tiny condominium, each sound taking place due to my mothers rage and anger against my existance. I bared no emotion whatsoever to my mother's hatred; today was actually a jolly good day compared to most others.
"Why the ******** are you such a stupid b***h?!" she half yelled, half questioned. I watched another pan fly across the room and hit the wall, landing on the vase beneath it and causing both to land on the floor with a crash. Yep, that would definately need some extra work shifts in order to pay for a replacement again.
"ANSWER ME!" my mother screamed, her bright blue eyes glaring at my dull blue ones. I didn't say a word, which made her repeat her demand in an even louder tone. Somehow, she had managed to have my eyes locked in with hers. It took awhile before I managed to mumble, "I don't know."
I allowed my eyes to close as I turned my face away from my mother slowly, trying not to say anything more. I was sure my thick black eyeliner was smeared, but I didn't really mind. It always had that effect from how I applied it. Mom hated it when I wore eyeliner, and once again, this was her reason as to why she was flipping out. Her cold hands jerked my face over to hers, her left palm smacking my cheek to have me open my eyes. Her voice wasn't raised this time; instead it was low and stern.
"Listen her, you emo slut," she hissed, "You're leaving. I'm sick of your attitude and disobeyance. I'm sure you're ******** manslut will take care of you out in the streets. Go back your bags...NOW!"
A very vague since of joy rushed through my body, even though I never even had a boyfriend in the first place. The streets seemed better to me than living with my parents. Who knows what would happen today if I wasn't kicked out; I'd rather inflict more pain on myself than have to deal with Dad and his constant beatings again.
Immediately, I rushed passed my mom and into my room. The whole thing was a mess, as always, and I somehow managed to get the closet open without a struggle this time. Better yet, I managed to find my grandmother's old suitcase! Clothes weren't hard to find; I had a few outfits that were always set on my bed even in the messiest of situations. Within five minutes, I had all that I needed. Makeup, clothes, shoes, a hairbrush, money from work, a few accessories, and my pocket knife. I yanked at the zipper a few times before it finally zipped up, and I was ready to go.
I chewed at the black polish on my finger nails, the door only a few feet away. I took one last look at the room, and I knew I wasn't going to miss home. Suddenly, I heard a pleading voice wail towards my direction.
"Hunny, don't go...I love you!" Mom stood behind me, begging her eyes out. Ha, like I would fall for that again. I went to the door and held onto the cold brass knob, slowly turning it.
"I'm sorry sweatheart, I didn't mean what I said. I was just angry." she begged me again. I was getting irritated; I was sick of this. It was like a song; you'd play it over and over again and everything was the exact same. Nothing was going to convince me. Nothing; I was leaving for good. This gave me an idea.
"Mom," I interuppted her rambling, "I'm not going to let this happen again. All you've ever done was scream at me and throw things. Then, of course, you kick me out and change your mind right when I'm about to leave, promising me it wont happen again. Do you think I'm going to keep living this lie?" She was silent to my surprise, so I continued.
"Each time I ******** fall for your tricks, you tell Dad the opposite of what happened and he comes to my room only to beat the living s**t out of me. You know how strong he is, and how violent things get with him. He's done it to you before, remember? Yet you know what will happen to me and how much pain I could be in, you still say terrible things. If it kills me to live out in the streets, so be it. I'd rather die from starvation then have to go through pain from someone other than me all over again." This made me feel almost as good as when I played with my pocket knife; I was as satisfied as I could get. As I spoke, I watched her puppy eyes slowly turn to her signature glare. Finally, as we stood in silence from my sudden outburst, she managed to mutter through her clenched teeth two short words.
"GET...OUT!"
For once in my lifetime, I laughed hysterically at her angry expression and walked out into the cool May air. It was dark, but I didn't really mind. After all, I did bring my black painted flashlight as an accessory...plus extra batteries. I'm not an idiot when it comes to these things. I checked the pocket watch I had in my faded skyblue jeans for the time. My step-grandfather on my dad's side owned it before he died, and I loved him so much. He was protective of me and made me smile all the time. I was my normal self around him; random and hyper. He respected me for who I am and was. The cool thing was that he taught me how to tell time when I was only three years old. Of course, Dad took it, so when he found out I stole it he beat me for it. Even then, he couldn't find out where I kept the watch and I never returned it. Eventually, he gave up. He still holds a grudge for me doing that.
I found out that it was 9:52, and clearly, it was at night. Dad didn't get home until 10:00, so I had to hurry away from home before he saw me. I dragged my suit case behind me, the bumps from the cracks of the sidewalk making this difficult. Thank god we were at the bottom floor of the stupid condo. I pulled out the straps from the suit case and slipped my shoulders into them. It was heavy, but as I ran in my dirty black converse, I realized I was going faster this way than how I was before. Finally, I reached the bus stop and took a rest, catching my breath. It was too dark for me to really see if anyone was there, but I shortly found out there was.
My money was in my luggage, so I decided to get it out so I could take a bus ride. I knew Dad wouldn't find me that way if I could catch a ride. I took out my flash light and pushed on the black little button at the handle, only to see a young man sitting beside me. His features were rather difficult to see; most of his upper face was hidden beneath a dark navy blue beanie and, although it was unbelievably dark, he wore sunglasses over his eyes. I screamed by instinct of fear and shock, my heart racing.
"Shhh, shhh..." he whispered, "Calm down! I'm not going to hurt you." I was still afraid to trust him, but I calmed down a bit. As I did, I watched his finger tips slide beneath the left end of the beanie and move up, sliding the beanie off to reveal a cute top of blue hair, or so my flashlight showed me. Even then, it was really nice hair. He slid off his glasses, the amazingly green eyes he possesed staring back at me, his lips curving in a smile.
"My name's Billie," he said as he extended out his hand, "What's your name?"
Well, knowing he wasn't going to kill me, I extended out my hand for a warm and friendly hand shake, "I'm Ingrid." I let out a friendly smile, as fake as it was.
"Pleasure to meet you," he released his warm hand from my once freezing one, "What brings you out at this time of night?"
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Posted: Thu Jul 20, 2006 1:37 pm
For a moment, it hit me. I was actually leaving my parents, the people who were supposed to be there for me from birth. They never were there, they hated me. I was alone in this world, I had nobody to trust and be supported by. I took a deep breath and answered as calmly as possible.
"I got kicked out, I have to find somewhe-" my choked up voice frooze as tears streamed down my frozen cheeks. I covered my face in embrassment; I had no control over the pressure stinging from my blurred eyes. I felt a hand touch my back, causing me to flinch a little until I got used to the stinging feeling. Thank god it wasn't dad.
"Shh, it's okay." he whispered, rubbing my back gently to try and calm me down. I couldn't believe myself! I was actually crying about something to a stranger, of all people.
He continued repeating those sweet words to me, as well as a few other nice things that were meant to be "motivational". Nothing convincing, but I finally calmed down a but after a good 5 minutes.
"Sorry," I murmered before mumbling, "I'm such a ******** b***h."
Billie patted my back as I sniffed up a few spare tears, each and every breath deep and heavy. He was really starting to hurt me from patting my back, he just happened to have caught the bruises without knowing it. Once again, I had no control, and I hated it. I began to flinch again, and he started catching on. "You okay?" he asked.
"Yeah," I lied, "I'm fine." For once, I hoped to god I sounded convincing. He didn't seem to care, and nodded his head. He cared enough about me crying, and I was merely a stranger to him so I didn't expect anything. Not that it made a difference; I didn't deserve to be cared for, and that I knew for a fact.
The bus arrived, and Billie and I hopped on. To where? Only Billie and the bus driver knew. Some random street.
God, I hope he doesn't kill me or something.
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Pretty Guardian Inuyasha Vice Captain
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