[ G R A C E ]

Someone once asked me what I wanted the most in the world. At the time, I was confused. I had everything I could ever want. A beautiful home. A loving family. Wonderful friends. How could I possibly want anything else?

I was so deluded back then.

I failed to see things the way they really were.

Broken.

I realized that there was an unimaginable amount of evil in the world hidden behind pretty smiles and kind actions.

And soon after that realization struck, I was able to answer the question.

I wanted to be free.

***

Just two more weeks, I thought as I pretended to listen to my friend babble on and on about the boy who broke her heart and now wanted her back.

Well, she wasn't really a friend. I didn't do friends. She was more of a former classmate who talked to anyone and everyone that would listen.

"I just don't know what to do! Tell me what to do, Grace! Should I text him back?"

I sighed.

"Do you really want me to tell you what to do, Tiana?"

"Yes!" She nodded excitedly.

Oh Hell. She probably thought I was going to tell her shit I don't mean like how she should definitely take him back and how I think they're perfect together... et cetera, et cetera.

Tough luck, sister.

"I actually fucking hate Jason," I started. Tiana gave me a startled look, but I continued. "He's sloppy, has no respect for others and most likely had his tongue down your best friend's throat when he sent you that text. So to answer your question, fuck no, you should not take him back. Dump his ass and move on with your life."

I waited for Tiana to respond. She didn't. She just continued to stare at me as if I'd slapped her. I guess in a way, I kind of had.

Not that I cared.

A few more seconds passed. Since Tiana still hadn't managed to say anything, I figured it was time for me to leave. 

"Well, it was nice seeing you. Good luck with everything. Bye," I told her as I stood up and left the food court of the mall.

I had just come here to grab a few last minute things before leaving for college. Tiana had spotted me at Hollister and talked me into having a late lunch with her.

What an unfortunate waste of an hour.

Two more weeks, I reminded myself while I got into the driver's seat of my car.

I've survived this long. I could survive a few more measly days.

It was so hot outside it made me dizzy. But then again, it was always hot in Pyrocoast, Arizona. I pulled my long and wavy brown hair into a ponytail before starting the car.

Blasting Maroon 5's "New Love," I drove back home.

As I parked in the driveway of our very expensive and very luxurious house, I prayed that my father wasn't home.

No such luck.

"Grace," I heard about two seconds after I entered through the front door.

Eighteen fucking years and that voice still sent chills down my spine. I wanted nothing more than to run up the stairs and lock myself in my room for the next two weeks. But I couldn't. He'd punish me much worse if I ignored him.

"Yes, father?" I said as politely as possible and made my way to the living room.

My father was sitting in his recliner with a paper in his hand.

And shit. He was fuming.

He looked up at me, his eyes burning with hate.

"Can you please explain to me," he asked in a deathly calm tone, "Why I am receiving a letter of complaint from Mrs. Bradshaw stating that you have caused a minor injury to her son."

Oh, so this was about Graham Bradshaw. The wimp had gone crying to his mommy.

Last week, while I was on my afternoon jog, he and a bunch of his friends decided it'd be funny to whistle at me and comment on my, and I quote, "hella fine rack". I decided it'd be funny to knee him in the balls so hard that he wouldn't be able to walk for a month.

I was really regretting that decision right now.

"I'm sorry father. He was being inappropriate with me." I tried to defend myself, even though I knew it was a futile effort.

My father jumped up from his recliner and had his hands wrapped around my throat before I had the chance to react.

He squeezed until I was gasping for air and I knew there were going to be bruises.

"Do I look like I fucking care how he was acting?! This is about you, you worthless bitch. Do you know how this makes me look?" He shouted.

It was always about him. It didn't matter that I was being harassed. He didn't care about the fact that some boy was making suggestive remarks about his daughter, his own blood. It only mattered how he looked to his stuck up friends.

I tried to loosen his hold on me by shaking my head, desperate for some oxygen to reach my lungs. Wrong move.

With all his strength, he stomped on my my left foot, making me cry out loud.

No please. Not my feet...

I pleaded with my eyes since I still couldn't speak with his hands around my throat.

As if he realized what I meant, he delivered another ferocious stomp onto my other foot.

My knees gave out.

My father let go of my throat as I collapsed on to the floor and kicked me in the stomach. Hard.

"If you ever act out of order in public again, I will make sure you never get your filthy hands on that thing you and your brother want so badly. That is, of course, if I don't kill you first for being the pathetic excuse for a human that you are."

As if to make his point, he picked up an item nearest to him, which just happened to be the TV remote, and threw it at me.

It hit me square in the face. Blinding pain seared through my body. I didn't know what hurt more, my feet or my face.

I clutched my cheek, attempting to ease the agony, even just a little.

With one last hateful scowl, my father turned and stormed out of the house.

I lay on the floor of the living room for who knows how long, trying to control my breathing. Trying to will my body to be strong. To stop hurting. 

The entire time, my mind kept coming back to one thought and one thought only: I couldn't do this for two more weeks.

I had to leave. Now.

I slowly sat up, wincing. Every part of my body felt like it was throbbing.

After finding my way up the stairs and into my bedroom,  I looked at the clock that hung on my bedroom wall.

9:15 pm.

If I drove fast, I'd make it to Carson Falls just past midnight.

I didn't care where I went, all I knew was that I had to get the hell out of here.

Lucky for me, I'd been planning my escape for so long that everything was already packed.

I got out three suitcases from my closet and put them near my doorway. Then I got out my duffel bag and filled it with anything else I could find within eyesight that I thought I needed.

Lugging everything to my car was hard work, mainly because I was still in so much physical pain.

But I finally did it.

I checked the digital clock in my car.

10:02 pm.

As I backed out of the driveway, I decided that I would not give a flying fuck about the consequences of my action.

I knew I'd be in deep shit.

I knew he'd take from me the one thing I wanted most. The one thing my brother wanted most.

But I couldn't care less right now.

I needed to protect myself.

***

It was well past 2 a.m. when I arrived at one of the townhouses near Carson University.

It was where my brother lived.

I left my car in the curb and grabbed my duffel.

As I walked up to the front door, I prayed that someone was awake.

I took a deep breath and knocked. Loudly.

I guess someone was awake because I heard shuffling and cursing come from inside.

When the door opened, my breath caught.

I knew my brother had roommates... But fuck.

Dark green eyes, a huge contrast from my light yellow ones, stared at me in confusion.

He didn't even give me the chance to speak. "Listen, not now, okay?" He told me as he ran a hand through his midnight black hair. It was a mess and laid in a heap on his head.

He was so tall that I had to crane my neck to meet his eyes. I was only 5' 2" so it proved to be a difficult task.

"What do you mean?" I asked when I was finally able to speak again, annoyed at myself for becoming distracted.

"I can't do this right now." He said gesturing to the air.

Glaring, I said "...and what exactly is it that you can't do right now?"

"Sleep with you." He deadpanned.

What in the world...?

Just as I was about to put this asshole in his place, a sleepy voice came from behind him.

"What the hell is going on, Scott? It's 2:30 in the morning."

Griffin.

Thank goodness.

I pushed Mr. Asshole to the side and saw my brother standing in his pyjamas on top of the staircase.

"Hey Griff." I said.

"Grace...?" After a moment of shocked silence he ran down the stairs and enveloped me in a hug.

"Are you okay?" He whispered in my ear.

He was the only other person who knew about our father's violent behaviour. After all, he had had to live through it pretty much his whole life too.

"Tell you later." I whispered back.

A not-so-subtle clearing of throat made us jump apart.

"Scott, this is my sister, Grace." Griffin introduced. "And Grace, this is one out of the three roommates of mine, Scott. He's on the team with me."

A jock. Oh Hell.

"Yeah," I said coldly, "We've just met."

Scott looked uncomfortable, which made me smug in return.

"Umm, sorry about that."

Griffin gave us both a stare that told us we needed to explain.

"Your roomie here thought I was one of his fuck buddies, isn't that right, Scottie?" I asked with a sneer.

Scott seemed to choke on air.

"What the hell, man?" Griffin yelled, glaring at Scott.

"Fuck... I didn't..." He let out a frustrated breath. "Listen, I didn't mean to assume. I've had this happen to me before so it was an honest mistake."

"Whatever." I said. He'd had girls come to his place at 2:30 in the morning just to sleep with him? Wow, talk about pathetic.

"Well, now that we know Grace is who she is, I think I'm gonna head upstairs. Goodnight Scott." Griffin said as he dragged me by the arm up the stairs, leaving Scott still frozen at the doorway.

Upstairs consisted of a short hallway with four bedrooms, arranged in a semi-circle.

Griffin and I entered the first bedroom on the right and he closed the door behind us.

His room was just as I'd imagined it. Books and papers lay scattered on his desk, a small dresser was in the corner and there was a black couch opposite to the bed.

He made his way to his large bed and sat down, rubbing his face with one hand.

"Grace..." he started.

"I know," I interrupted. "I fucked up. Now he's never going to tell us."

Griffin gave me a sharp stare. "No. I couldn't care less about that right now. Look at your fucking cheek Grace. It's blue! I knew I shouldn't have left you!"

"Griff, stop!" I countered. "For the millionth time, you had no choice. It's okay."

Griffin took a deep breath. "What did he do?"

I made my way to his bed and took a seat opposite him. I told him about Graham Bradshaw and the letter of complaint and what he did to me because of it.

"I've had worse beatings, I know. But ever since he found out that I received a state scholarship for cross country, every time he hits me now, he aims to hurt feet. I paid off a doctor for a confidential check up last month, and he said that I'd already cracked a bone on my left foot. He said it would be beyond the point of repair if I injured it again. Do you understand what I'm trying to say, Griff? If I have anymore damage done to my feet, I won't be able to run for the team when I start college... I'll lose my scholarship and I won't be able to pay for school. I'm so sorry that I bailed, and I know how much shit we'll be in because of what I did, but I just... I couldn't afford to lose everything I've worked so hard for. I'm sorry." I finished, my voice cracking the slightest bit at the end. But I knew that's as far as my emotions would go. I never cried.

Griffin was pale. He took a wavering breath and told me "Again, I don't give a fuck what happens after this. I'm glad you're here. You're staying with me for the next two weeks. I need some time to calm down so I don't go and kill him right now. We'll talk more tomorrow."

He got up from his bed and went over to the couch. Turns out, it was a fold-out one. After turning the couch into a bed, he went to his closet grabbed extra pillows and blankets and laid them on the foot of the futon. "I'll take the futon," He said.

"No fucking way, Griff." I scoffed, refusing to kick him out of his own bed. "Get your ass to your bed. I've had a long night, don't argue with me." I gave him a solemn smile.

"Alright Gracie, whatever you wish." the sadness in his eyes was temporarily replaced with a mischievous twinkle.

I made my way to the futon and laid down, not bothering to change. Griffin also stretched out on his bed. Pulling the blanket up to my chin, I turned to him. "Call me Gracie again and I'll rip your balls out."

Griffin chuckled and turned off the lamp beside his bed.

"I don't doubt it, baby sister." Those were the last words I heard before sleep consumed me. 

____________

A/N: Hey guys! So here it is... I know there are probably many grammatical mistakes, so feel free to point them out. 

To whoever reading this, thank you for giving me a chance. 

Everyone wants their words to be heard, so thank you for hearing mine. 

(I promise chapter 2 gets better! So if you totally dislike my story right now, I hope the next chapter will change your mind)