Running

Published on July 2016 | Categories: Types, Creative Writing, Novels | Downloads: 286 | Comments: 0 | Views: 1139
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The story of a young girl caught up in a bad world. Can she get out? **it's not finished, i just wanted to see the initial reaction to the first couple pages, dont forget to comment*

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µRunning¶ is a story about one girl, Ashley, caught up on the wrong side of the law; shop lifting, truancy, experimenting with drugs, and prostitution. Her mother has always been a lost cause, running from place to place, dragging her daughter along with her. Men after men, some good, but usually pretty bad. Drugs, alcohol, violence. Not the kind of environment a kid should be brought up in. She¶s got all the wrong friends, kids like her ± no boundaries. Prancing around the suburbs in Brisbane City, wreaking havoc, and being a nuisance. But under her tough, bad girl exterior, is a little girl who¶s just crying out for help. She¶s tired of running, being chased by her fears, her past. Someone has to save her from herself, before it¶s too late. What will become of Ashley, will she ever stop running?

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The beginning«
I was running, I¶ve always been running. For as long as I can remember, my mother would take me from one place to another, she would bring different men into my life, hoping I would eventually consider one as my father, then replace him with another once she realised he was a dead beat, just like the last one. If my mother taught me one thing in life, it was this: when your past catches up to you, and your problems become too much, run from it. Run, and don¶t ever stop. She also taught me how to shop lift, apply makeup by the tender age of ten, that men are disposable, and to not trust anybody but yourself. With her high morals, and terrific choice in men who always had a history of domestic violence and drug abuse, she was the perfect role model for a lonely kid with no stability in life. I wish I could say it hasn¶t always been like this, but that would be a lie, not that lies are wrong or anything. As my mother always says, there¶s nothing wrong with bending the truth if it will keep you out of trouble. Running, without ever taking the time to enjoy the view , I¶ve come to realise, the world is my race now, and I¶ve got to stay one step ahead if I ever want to escape my mother¶s demons, demons that have burdened me all my life. Literally speaking though, I am running, to the bus stop that is. I have less than t hirty seconds to make it there, before the bus leaves me for dead and I have nowhere to run to. Yes, it¶s a Monday, and yes, there is school, but if truancy were something you put on a resume, I¶d be a shoe in for the job, having spent more time out of a classroom, than in. I managed to piss bolt my ass to the bus shelter just in time to see it speed off down the road, its gassy pollution escaping from the exhaust pipe. I cursed under my breath, and kicked the bench several times, which wasn¶t the smartest thing to do considering I was wearing thongs. My big toe started to bleed, and I cursed out loud this time, the amount of blood starting to cause me some panic. Then the pavement around my feet was slowly getting covered in blood, and I began to hyperventilate. I¶ve always had a small phobia of blood. ³Need a hand? Or should I say, a foot?´ said a voice from somewhere behind me. Great, now strangers are making lame jokes at my ill fortune and stupidity. I slowly turned around, and to my astonishment it wasn¶t a stranger, it was Carter Green, a total cutie in my biology class at school, even better. Okay, now for my smart witty response that will knock him off his feet, stop him in his tracks, convince him in not some weirdo chick covered in foot blood. Smart, charming response« right about now. ³Ha-ha« yeah.´ Or not so smart, and not even remotely charming. µYeah¶, bloody hell, who says that! Take two. ³Do you have like, a tissue or something?´ Smart, no. Charming, no. Flirty, definitely not. What in God¶s name is wrong with me! Just as I shook my head and began to hobble away, he grabbed my arm and, miracle of all miracles, produced a tissue from his backpack. What kind of boy has tissues in his backpack? I¶m really hoping it isn¶t used. ³Thanks. I¶m Ashley by the way.´
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³Yeah, I know. We have Bio together, at Brisbane State High, that place where we should be on a Monday morning, but we¶re not. Wagging?´ Cute, check. Bad ass attitude, check. Chivalrous, check. I think I¶ve scored! Now I will redeem myself with a quirky response. ³Yep.´ So much for quirky, geez Ashley, way to go. With luck, I¶ve charmed him enough with my average looks, outrageous, untameable, wild curly brown hair, racoon eye makeup and stereotypical scene outfit ± black skinnies and a t-shirt. Attractive. ³So you¶re wagging, which means your parents will probably crack the shits when you explain why you were bleeding all over the bus stop pavement, and not at school, am I right?´ What is he getting at? ³Parent. Just one, and a temporary dad, but you¶re more or less right. What are you getting at?´ ³And with an injury like that, you¶re going to need some kind of medical attention. Lucky for you, I have nowhere to be, and nothing to do, so I can accompany you to the emergency room and make sure you don¶t go abusing your foot anymore, on unsuspecting bus benches.´ Oh my God, this guy is cute. ³Your funny, it¶s cute.´ Did I really just say that? ³And you¶re painting the footpath with your blood, let¶s go invalid.´ Laughing, he helped me hop my way across the busy road, flipping off several cars that only sped up when they saw us try to cross. Jerks. Lucky for us, the Royal Brisbane Hospital was directly across from the bus stop, so we didn¶t have to walk far to get to the emergency room. The ER was practically empty this early in the morning, most people would be at school or work, and the people who weren¶t, were probably sleeping off last night¶s drinks. We didn¶t have to wait long before a nurse saw the amount of blood my foot was producing, and showed us to a doctor. I didn¶t like doctors, they asked too many questions. It was just downright nosy. ³Well young lady, seems like you¶ve had some sort of accident. How did you do this to your foot, on a Monday morning, when you should be at school, safe in a classroom?´ See what I mean! Too many questions, so freaking nosy. ³It doesn¶t matter how I did it, I just need you to fix it, µcause right now it hurts like a bitch, and I think I¶m going to pass out. This thing is leaking like a faucet. So can you fix it, or will I have to find someone else, more qualified and less intrusive?´ I was getting seriously pissed off, and the amount of pain I was in didn¶t invite small talk. Another thing my mother taught me, if you don¶t like someone, then show it. It¶s not rude, it¶s upfront. ³You¶ve got quite an attitude missy, but I can help you. Just sit still, this might sting a bit, you¶re tough though.´ He wiped the wound on my toe with some kind of liquid that stung like hell. It was all I could do to stop myself from screaming. Now that I could actually see the wound on my toe without several layers of blood covering it, I realised it wasn¶t something a Band-Aid could fix. Oh no, this thing would need stitches, it didn¶t take a doctor to figure that out. My toe was also sticking out in a funny direction too. I crossed my fingers, hoping it was just a cramp that was making it stick out like that, and it wasn¶t broken. ³That¶s one nasty laceration you¶ve got there, it¶s going to need stitches, and it seems like you¶ve broken your toe as well. We¶ll take an x-ray just to be sure though, just let me stitch you up first.´
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It finally dawned on me why people become doctors in the first place. They enjoy delivering bad news to poor vulnerable idiots like me, or even worse, to people who are dying from cancer! Telling someone they¶re dying must actually give them some kind of satisfaction, sick bastards. Why else would you go to university for years on end, just to see blood, people¶s insides and tell someone they¶ve got three months to live. They like it! Stitches are kind of cool, uncomfortable but cool. X-rays though, they¶re just boring. After shoving my foot under some kind of machine with funny lights, they told me something I already knew, even without a PHD behind my name: my toe was broken. Who would¶ve guessed. They also told me they couldn¶t really do anything about it, and that it would heal itself if I just rested, and gave it time. Not something I wanted to hear. I limped away from the emergency room without so much as a thank you to the pain-in-the-ass doctor. ³How does it feel? Sore?´ inquired my knight in shining armour. He was even cuter when he worried. ³Nah, it¶s alright. The anaesthetic has numbed it pretty well.´ Wow, I¶m finally starting to talk to him, like a normal person. My flirting skills still need a bit of work, but holding a conversation is a good start. ³That¶s good then. Nice show you put on back there, quite some mouth you have. What¶s it like at other things?´ Dear god, did he just make a sexual innuendo towards me? Clever response required right now, think. Think! Nothing... my mind was an empty void. Clear of any rational response. ³Umm«´ Yes, umm indeed. Let¶s see what he says to that! I¶ve probably left him dumbfounded. ³Don¶t worry, I¶m kidding, unless you don¶t want me to be.´ He¶s good, real good. But I¶m better. ³Uh, Carter«´ My comebacks put his comebacks to shame. Ah, who am I kidding. I suck! At talking, at flirting, at being human. ³You know my name, and I¶m pretty sure I never mentioned it. Actually I¶m one hundred per cent sure I never told you my name. How¶d you know it? Have you been stalking me or something?´ He chuckled, and I was left with approximately three seconds to come up with something that didn¶t require me telling him I fantasized about him every other day. It¶s not like I¶m the only girl to find him totally amazing though, I bet he has a whole line up of girls just waiting to be his. Time¶s up. ³Please, don¶t flatter yourself. We have Bio together, I guess I just picked it up after hearing it so many times.´ Not bad Ash, not bad. Almost believable. If it weren¶t for my flaming red cheeks. ³Aha, sure. You¶re cute Ashley, let¶s get something to eat. If you¶re up for it.´ Up for it? Boy, was I ever! ³Yeah, let¶s go. Just as long as we take the bus, this anaesthetic won¶t last forever.´

To be continued. Just wanted to see if I got many views for this first little bit, before I kept going. Comment if you have suggestions on any changes that should be made.

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