Runaway

By S.M. Knowles

At seventeen years old, Courtney Apuzzo is fed up. With a dead mom and an alcoholic father that beats her every chance he gets, Courtney decides that enough is enough. Packing up only what she needs, Courtney leaves home without telling a soul and heads off to find her new life.

Life on her own is not exactly as she thought it would be. With nowhere to stay, Courtney finds herself sleeping on an old stoop in an abandoned apartment alleyway. A chance meeting with a new group of friends seems like a great beginning to her second chance at a real life. But everything is not as it seems.

Tricked into a life she never wanted and fears, Courtney needs to run away, again. She needs to find a way out of this new and dangerous life. With the help from a man she barely knows, will Courtney find her way out? Or will she find herself on the run from a dangerous past, and a hopeless future? Faced with a choice that will change her life forever.

• Language: English
• Publisher: S.M. Knowles
• Release date: Jun 5, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310690907

Book preview

THE NIGHT IS dark as Courtney tosses and turns, sheets twisting around her legs with every fling of her body. Another bad dream about her mother fills the darkness. Her emotions frizzled and life moving down a slippery slope any young adult would love to stay clear of. Sitting up, she reaches for a glass of water situated on the table beside her bed. She takes a gulp, feeling the cool water slide down her throat and into her stomach. The only satisfying feeling she’s felt in weeks, months, or years for that matter.

Looking at the alarm clock, she realizes the buzzer will go off in another five minutes.

Ugh. Reaching over, she shuts the clock off so not to make noise and wake her father who came home late and drunk again last night. While slurring his speech, he had been throwing things because his food sat cold in the microwave instead of heated up on the table.

Courtney looks at the broken plate lying on the floor by her bed and the food that still lay splattered on top of her comforter. She will need to clean this up quickly before she leaves for school or surely another thrashing will happen. Removing the sheets from her legs, she tosses them over the other side of her bed to stand up, then stretches her arms and legs as she yawns, finally moving to her closet.

Rummaging through her closet, she finds a denim skirt and jacket. Pairing the denim with a black shirt and socks, oh and of course, her favorite pair of net stockings, she has her ensemble chosen for the day. Tiptoeing through the living room where her father lay passed out from the night before, she makes it into the bathroom. Slowly closing the door, she’s careful to turn the handle so that the latch doesn’t make a noise.

Success! She becomes excited as her father still sleeps. Removing all of her clothes, she quickly jumps in the tub and starts the shower. Jumping slightly from the freezing cold water, but warming quickly, she leans against the back of the shower, taking it all in.

Pieces of her skin hurt from bruises she’s endured the last few weeks. More recently because rent is due and her father hasn’t made an ounce of money working. Well, none that Courtney sees. Most all of it is spent on liquor or possibly a liquor store from the smell of her father each night, stinking up the whole house.

Remembering to pick up more shampoo from her school’s locker room today, she uses what little is left in the bottle. Luckily, they keep extra little bottles of soap for the girls to use at school.

Four more months of school. That’s all. Once I’m done, I can leave forever and never look back. Her smile becomes dreamy. Anything to be away from her father, the man who sees a servant instead of a daughter.

A hard knock beats on the bathroom door. Courtney! Another belt sounds against the wood, making it shake.

Shutting off the water quickly, Courtney tries grabbing a towel as she puts her foot outside the bathtub. Her heel slides along the side of the porcelain container as she places her balance on it, causing her to fall right in the middle on her groin.

Owe. She pushes herself off the tub in agony while trying to wrap her wet body with a towel. I’m coming, Daddy. She slips again, this time hitting her knee on the toilet. Can this day get any worse? she mumbles.

Another loud bang beats at the door. Her father growls as he begins to speak. Courtney! You had best get your ass out! He hits the door just right, bursting it open and catching her ankle with the bottom edge.

Looking down, she watches a line of blood surge from her opened skin. A tear falls from her face. She knows what’s next. Her father is like clockwork. Immediately, she covers her head as her towel slips down her waist. Leaning over, she tries to get as close to the floor as possible. If she can lean into the floor, she won’t have to worry about her face bouncing, causing more bruising.

He begins pushing his way through the door. God damn it, girl! You get out when I tell you to.

A hard punch to the back of the head. Shivering as she waits for him to hit her again, she pushes her way deeper into the back of the toilet. Anything to keep him from hurting her. This time, an open handed slap hits her lower back. She jumps, hugging the toilet. Please, she whimpers.

Please, what? More? He kicks her in the ass, and her legs are the only things exposed at this time.

She continues lying down, shoved as close as she can get herself beside the toilet, waiting for whatever else her dad might throw at her. Shaking uncontrollably, tears are streaming down her face and mingling with the snot dripping from her nose. More whimpers as she lies, waiting.

Expecting another blow, she holds her breath, but this time she hears water entering the toilet. Her father pees as she lays hiding from his abuse. She knows better than to move and remains silent, trying to soften her cries. More bruising and welts along with a necessary butterfly bandage will accompany her to school today.

Stupid girl, her father mutters as he leaves the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

Courtney slides out from behind the toilet and tries to sit up. Every muscle in her back is sore, including her butt. Grabbing her towel, she tightly wraps it around herself. Looking for her clothes, she realizes they lay in a mangled mess in the corner near the shower, where a puddle of water usually sits.

Dropping the toilet seat down, she gets into the medicine cabinet where not much remains. An old razor and a pack of Band-Aids she had recently stolen from the store sat on the dusty shelf. Stealing anything is against her morals; however, lately she’s been ending up with more cuts and bruises, needing something to hide them from others.

She put her towel under the sink, getting it nice and wet to clean up her ankle. Plopping down on the toilet, she wipes up the blood and exposes the cut. It looks a bit deeper than normal, she sighs, trying to pinch her skin back together.

Drying off the area, she takes the sticky piece of the bandage and rips it away from the cotton center. After doing the same with the other side, she then places the sticky piece over her pinched-skin and places the other adhesive piece on top. I hope this works.

Setting her foot down on the floor, she throws the towel to the side and picks up her underwear. I’m so lucky these aren’t wet, she mumbles. Her face cringes as she picks up her leg and places it in the hole of her panties then does the same with the other limb, pain obviously still surging through her body.

Her shorts receive majority of the wetness, the sleeve of her black shirt barely damp. After fully putting on her clothes and brushing out her long brown hair, she grabs the handle of the bathroom door and slowly walks out, hoping her father fell back asleep.

As she tiptoes past him, he lays with his arm hanging off the couch with his mouth wide open. Her face cringes as the man she once adored has turned into a devil of some kind. A careless man who feels no need to take care of him, his house, or his daughter. A whiskey bottle lay between him and the back of the couch. Eyeing it, she tries to decide if it would be worth the effort in taking it from him and dumping it or if she should just leave it as is.

Looking at him again, she whispers, I desperately want my daddy back. Slipping over to the couch, she pulls out the bottle.

Tugging a little harder then she meant to, he turns onto his side. She stands over him holding in her breath, eyes wide complete in horror that he might wake up. Sighing, she relaxes her body as he lets out another loud snore, staying exactly where he is.

Suddenly, his eyes open. Running as fast as she can to the kitchen, she opens the top of the bottle. Swinging her arm over the sink, she begins to pour the bottle of booze down the drain. His arm grips her wrist tight.

What made you think you could get away with this little stunt? He pulls her arm towards him, taking the bottle out of her hand. Putting it up to his dried, cracked lips, he takes a big swig and wipes away the moisture left on his mouth with the other arm. Ahh. That stuff will put hair on your chest. Something you must need, messing with a grown man’s alcohol.

He opens his hand parallel to the floor, swinging it rapidly in Courtney’s direction, backhanding her. Falls over onto the floor, she grabs her face and tries to rub away the pain. But this pain, she will never be able to rub away. The pain of her father never truly loving her.

***

THE WALK TO school is a lonely one. At least they don’t live too far. The morning is nice with an easy, gentle breeze. It’s a kite flying kind of day. Courtney stands at the fenced entrance of the school, holding her book to her chest and taking in the smells of spring while slightly closing her eyes. Winter is just about gone and warmth wraps its arms around the city.

Forcing her legs to begin moving forward, she lowers her head and strides onward. Cars fill the parking lot, letting her know the bell will ring soon. It isn’t often she’s early to school. Mrs. Shuster’s car sits in the same place as always. Courtney looks into the car’s side mirror while pulling out her eyeliner and lip gloss.

Her father doesn’t permit makeup on her face, but once he drinks enough, he doesn’t even notice. She dots the tip of the pencil with her tongue before applying the liquid liner to both of her top eyelids, then smooth’s it under both bottom lids. Placing the cap back on the pencil, she pulls out her chap stick to moisten her pout.

Done. She holds her head up and tries to confidently walk into the school building today. Although she hasn’t forgotten about this morning, she’s bound to try.

Hey Courtney! Shannon comes strolling up to her as she always does, throwing her arm around Courtney’s neck. What’s up for tonight?

Courtney shrugs, continuing her walk with a shy smile. I dunno.

C’mon! Me and a couple of the guys are getting together. I thought maybe you could come hang out. Possibly jam with us. Shannon sticks her hands in the air, making a rock on sign with her fingers as she throws her head back and forth.

I don’t know. Courtney lightly pushes Shannon off her as she continues walking.

What’s up? Walking backwards in front of Courtney, she looks her up and down. It’s your dad. He did it again.

Courtney’s eyes sadden as she looks off to the left. I’m fine.

Shannon sticks out her hand, catching Courtney by the shoulder. You’re not fine. They both stop walking. Did he hit you again? She walks closer to Courtney, searching her face for the truth.

No. Quickly moving her head, her hair sways over covering her face, accidently exposing her shoulder.

Shannon lets out a slight gasp. Your shoulder!

That’s old. Let’s just get to class.

The bell startles Shannon as it rings. You should stay at my house. You know mom won’t care. She thinks of you as her own.

Shaking her head, Courtney moves past her and makes her way up the hall to her first class. The hall is crowded with kids walking in every direction. A cheerleader and her friends that are oblivious to anyone else walk by and knock Courtney hard in the shoulder.

Watch it! Freakin’ raccoon looking freak! she snarls. The girl gives her a dirty look and continues the expression as she walks forward with her friends in toe. Each one of them turns to stare Courtney down as they individually pass.

Entering the door to her first period, she heads to her usual seat in the back corner until she notices a bag is already sitting in the chair. Letting out a soft grunt, she turns and looks for another seat, but the only one available is sitting directly in the middle of the room. Walking over, she sits down quickly, accidently hitting her sore ankle on the back of another chair. Her hand hastily moves to the injury. Applying pressure, she tries to stop the pain.

After the stinging begins to go away, she looks at her hand and notices blood sits on her palm. Wiping the blood on the underneath of her black shirt is the only thing she can think to do.

What’s up with your black fishnets? a voice thunders from the back.

She sits there, ignoring the comment. Someone must have dared him to do that. Stupid jerk.

She watches the teacher dart into the room with her head down. Homework out and pass it to the front. Grabbing chalk, she writes a few sentences on the board. Please incorporate these sentences in their own paragraphs. She scampers back out the door without ever looking at the class.

Who in the hell wants to write some stupid words into a paragraph? Brad stands up, walking over to some boy and pushes him out of his seat. Go sit back there. I catch you in my seat again, I’ll eat you. He thrusts his chest towards the other boy, causing him to jump and run back to the other seat.

Courtney inspects her ankle again. Blood still escapes the painful wound. She wipes it off on her shirt again before planting her face in her palms. What am I going to do? Standing up, she grabs her bag and walks out of the class and down to the gym.

Normally a class isn’t going during first period in the gym, so Courtney hopes the teacher will be in her office. Making her way down the flight of stairs, she jaunts through the locker room and steps through Mrs. Speicher doorway.

Smiling, she sighs in relief. The corners of her mouth almost reach ear to ear her smile is so big. I’m so glad you’re here.

Mrs. Speicher looks up with her reading glasses perched on the end of her nose, red pen in hand. Hi, Courtney. What can I do for you?

My leg. She points down. I caught it on the door at my house and it started bleeding.

Mrs. Speicher wrinkles up her nose. Oh no. Is it still bleeding?

Yes. Courtney’s eyes widen, panic showing within them.

Okay, dear. Take your socks and fishnets off and let me have a look. Her smile is warm and friendly.

Courtney listens to what she says and takes her clothes off, leaving on just her underwear. Blood leaks down her ankle like water dripping from a faucet.

Oh, wow. Courtney…that’s bad. You’re going to need to go to the hospital. I think you need stitches.

Courtney’s eyes tear up. I can’t go to the hospital. Please, is there something we can do here?

Mrs. Speicher pulls her lips over to the side as she contemplates what she can do. I have some butterfly bandages, but you are going to need to be careful. Do you understand? Mrs. Speicher reaches out, setting her hand on top of Courtney’s.

Yes! I can be careful. She looks Mrs. Speicher in the eyes, knowing full well that she can’t help what her father does to her.

Mrs. Speicher stands, Come with me. We need to clean it. She leads Courtney to the sinks. Do you think you can put your leg up here?

I can. She quickly sets her leg up on the sink.

Looking at Courtney’s leg, she makes her way up to her eyes. Are you in some type of sport?

Courtney nods.

Okay, because these bruises are pretty bad.

Oh, I know. I just finished up basketball, and I have been playing a lot of soccer with my cousins. She smiles again, trying to mask the lie. She doesn’t have any cousins. Well, none that she knows of.

Mrs. Speicher turns on the water and runs it over Courtney’s leg. Courtney flinches a little as the water hits her sore directly.

Is that too hot?

No.

Okay, because I’m going to pour some alcohol on it.

Alcohol? Courtney trembles.

Rubbing alcohol. To clean it. Is that alright?

Will it hurt?

A little, but you can hold my hand. Her face softens up as she looks Courtney in the eyes. It will be over soon, and then I can put a butterfly bandage on it.

With wings?

Kind of. But it’s not pretty like a real butterfly.

Oh, I thought you were putting another bandage on it that had butterfly pictures. She smiles.

A light laugh comes out of Mrs. Speicher. No, dear. This is as close as we are able to come to stitches. You can’t get this wet though. It won’t do its job otherwise.

I won’t.

Alright. Look away while I pour the alcohol on.

Courtney grabs Mrs. Speicher’s hand, holding on for her life as the liquid hits its mark. It hurts!

Only for a moment. I’m going to pour more.

The second time didn’t hurt as bad and Courtney is able to watch her better.

Okay, so when you put on a butterfly bandage, you need to pinch the skin and put one side piece over here. Then you will stretch it over here and do the same. I’ll give you a few extras for later.

She nods her head yes. Thank you so much.

It’s my pleasure. Make sure you have your parents look at that. I think you should go to the doctor.

She nods again, walking over to put her clothes on. I will. I promise! Her smile remains the same. The thought of seeing her father makes her ill as she worries what he might do if he found out about this.

After she’s fully dressed with her shoes on, Mrs. Speicher hands her two more butterfly Band-Aids. The one should be fine as long as you keep it dry.

She sticks the Band-Aids in her pocket, definitely taking them for her at home collection of things she might need. Thank you. She waves at the teacher and walks back up the stairs.

Courtney walks in front of her first period class where the teacher is standing giving a lecture on some English assignment. Probably boring and something we all already know. Instead of interrupting the class, she walks over to a chair in the hallway and sits, waiting on the bell for the end of first period to ring. Several other students come in late this morning, so they do the same. Some linger in the hall while others sit and eat some type of generic vending machine pop-tart.

Hey stranger. A boy who knew Courtney before her mother passed away plunges down in the seat beside her.

Hey. she says, with no reason other than to be nice.

Cat got your tongue? He continues grinning at her without saying much more.

Nothin’ to say is all.

Got it. He sits back in his chair, laying his hands behind his head and extending his legs. Almost like he’s lying on a beach somewhere.

The bell rings, and Courtney rises for her next class. She slowly makes her way to history. It’s one of the few classes she really likes.

Look at her. She’s strange. I mean, who wears leg warmers when it’s warm out?

They aren’t leg warmers, she growls. Trying hard to ignore the girls following her, she ducks into the bathroom. Just her luck, the girls keep following her. Courtney washes her hands slowly while the other girls put on lip gloss. She reaches for a paper towel at the same time one of the other girls does.

Hands off, nut job! The girl walks closer to Courtney, blotting her lips on the paper towel. Looks like you might just need this more than me. Here. She throws the brown, wrinkled up paper at her.

Courtney watches it hit the floor before she moves, grabbing another towel from the dispenser. Rolling her eyes, she asks herself, When will this stop? A tear tries to force its way through her eye, but she holds it back. If nothing else, I am not a cry baby. Picking up the other paper towel off the floor, she tosses it in the trash with hers.

***

SLAMMING THE FRONT door shut to her house, Courtney leans against it, trying to relax from the day’s stress. Oh my God! she screams out into the empty air. What is wrong with my life? Knowing her father wouldn’t be home for hours, she begins picking up the house.

The chores are something she must keep up with daily. Her father will not allow a dirty house. Laundry, dusting, and cooking must be done regularly. As well as picking up anything he leaves behind in the morning.

What does he do all day? Her frustration grows as she pulls out his socks and underwear from the couch cushion. Empty liquor bottles litter the floor of the living room. Beer can after beer can. One would think a massive party happened here last night. When in reality it was just one loan man, enjoying his freedom knowing I will be the one who will be cleaning up after him.

Aggravated, she falls to the floor, picks up a bottle, and throws it at the wall. It shatters and falls to the ground like rain. The liquid left in the bottle can be seen thrashed against the wall as the smell makes it way in like fog. Oh, crap. How will I clean that?

Abruptly, she stands up walking into her room, fighting with an idea floating around in her head. Should I leave or stay? There’s nothing for me here. I have no family other than a dad that hurts me. I have one friend, who hasn’t really been a friend lately. Jumping on her bed, she lands flat on her back. What will I do if I leave?

The phone rings, bringing her out of her daydream. She quickly rolls over onto her side, gets off her bed, and runs to pick up the phone.

Hello?

Kid, I won’t be home until tomorrow night sometime.

She silently stands there, not really paying attention to what was said.

Kid!

She shakes her head, bringing her back to the place she considers hopeless. Yeah.

Um, just…do what you do.

A dial tone ends the conversation. Putting down the phone, she picks up the pile of laundry in the living room and throws it in the wash before finishing up the rest of the living room. Running to the fridge, she notices Dad hasn’t gone to the grocery store to get anything. Her head falls as she slowly closes the refrigerator door. Her belly rumbles. She didn’t eat at all today, and it looks like she won’t be eating tonight either.

Maybe there’s some change in the couch. She moves all the cushions out from the sofa, digging through all the crevices. Six quarters, two dimes, and eight nickels. Running to the washer, she reaches to the back of the shelf right above the appliance. She keeps loose change here that she finds when doing laundry.

Ugh, I pushed it too far back. She stretches a little further, knocking the cup over and spilling the contents of the mug. Ugh. I need a boost. She turns, looking for anything that will make her a few inches taller. Grabbing a stool from the counter, she drags it over and stands on it. Nice! She pulls the money forward. Another four dollars in change. She grabs a dollar to go with the other two dollars in change she found earlier.

Grabbing her polka dot black hat, she puts it on her head and heads out to the nearest fast food place. I need a dollar menu. Cheapest food possible.

She walks by a road with a dead end in an ally. Looking down the road, she sees a few boys standing together and smoking pot. Losers, she whispers, her face giving a sardonic look. I guess they have no respect for their parents. Her face grows sad with the thought running through her head. Respect for parents. She lets out a loud sigh, continuing her stride onward.

Finally making it to the fast food restaurant, Courtney opens the door and smells the delicious scent of french-fries. Her mouth begins to water at the different smells.

Welcome, what would you like to order today? The girl at the counter jolly bouncing with each word she says.

Courtney’s eyes glaze over at all the choices until she reaches the dollar menu. Recounting what she has, she looks up again. I will take a cheeseburger, small fry, and a small drink.

That will be three dollars and twenty-six cents. She smiles, stretching out her hand in wait for the payment.

Courtney looks down and counts out her change, giving the lady three dollars and thirty cents. The cashier takes the change and gives her back four pennies. Your order number is one eleven. She holds out a receipt, waiting on Courtney to grab it.

Taking the receipt, she stands back against the wall. Your cup! The cashier holds up the cup, and she gladly accepts it.

Taking her cup over to the soda machine, she fills it and then places a lid securely on the top, pushing a straw through the opening in the middle. Putting the straw up to her lips, she takes in a big gulp. Ah. The sweet, sugary goodness along with the soda water feels good going down her throat. Much better. Walking over to some empty seats, she takes a single table for two instead of a four-seater. She sits comfortably in front of a window watching the cars pass her by and enjoying the peace of her afternoon. Something she hasn’t done since her mother’s death.

As she thinks about her mother, more tears try to make their presence again, but Courtney pushes them back.

Order number one-eleven!

Oh! That’s me. Leaving her cup, she rushes over to get her tray. After picking up her food, she swiftly walks over to the ketchup, pushing the pump several times on her tray. Mmmmm. She floats on a new cloud as her stomach knows something is about to fill it.

Sitting back down at her seat, she picks up her cup. Shaking it a bit, she notices it’s empty. Hmm. I must have drunk more than I thought. Grabbing her cup, she makes her way back to the soda machine, filling it up to the top. Replacing the lid and heading over to her seat again, she notices two girls with black hair sitting around her food.

Hey! That’s mine! She runs over to the table as the girls talk with one another nonchalantly, ignoring Courtney’s every word.

The girl with large spacers in her ears takes another fry, dipping it in the ketchup. Huh? She looks up at her. "What did you