Chapter 1: Runaway

Riley's POV

I couldn't take it anymore. I couldn't take my life anymore. I had to runaway or else I'd go mentally insane and kill myself.

Life hasn't been the exact rainbows and sunshines for me at all. More like storms and tornados to be accurate. All the pressure my parents and peers put me through, the constant arguments between my parents, and the bullying.

I would explain deeper as to why I ran away, but now is the wrong timing. When the timing is right, I'll give out the full story. But right now, I had packed all my necessities into my small leather backpack leaving the premises of the building I once called home.

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The harsh wind continuously smacked dust into my eyes, temporarily blinding them from time to time. I clutched my backpack with my free hand, and with the other was shielding my eyes.

Yes, I was afraid. Fear wouldn't stop me though. My determination was greater than the bomb ticking fear about to explode as the night grew darker. Darker with more wails of sirens than ever. I walked past a number of homeless people who were either drunk or asleep.

One man came up to me and asked if I was a spy who arrested minion unicorns who vomited banana flavoured rainbows on the grass on purpose.

Seriously minion unicorns?

Okay... he most definitely had too much to drink. To avoid any disputes, I quickly nodded my head without making any eye contact. I trotted away from him, in search of a empty alley to sleep in for just tonight.

My plan is to stay away from home for this night and next morning. Then I would return, hopefully my parents would have realized how I feel. When they realize how I feel, they might stop arguing all the time, and stop expecting me to be 'the perfect child'. Ah, the perfect solution to my miserable life!

I heard a stray cat purr when I lifted one of the boxes to create some sort of mattress to sleep on. My backpack was on the left side of me before. But, it was gone. Like, boom it vanished. So did the stray cat. I simply shrugged it off. I didn't actually need three quarters of the stuff anyway. It wasn't like I was going to stay in the streets forever.

Just as I was about to drift off in the pile of boxes I had created, I heard footsteps. Footsteps a human would make. The only thing I could think of is to pretend I was asleep. The sound of the steps became louder, indicating that whoever that was came closer. I swear, my heart was beating a million times faster now. The sound of footsteps stopped. I shuddered as I felt cold hands shake me vigorously.

"Wake up!" the person said in a deep voice, now I had an idea that the person was a guy. My gut told me to continue on with pretending I was asleep. Being me, I didn't listen. So, I slowly rose as I rubbed my eyes. He looked like he was 16 to 18 years old.

He had mocha brown hair, some cuts near his cheekbones (speaking of cheekbones, he had high cheekbones which made him look attractively tough), acne bombarded all over his forehead, and wild written in his brown eyes. As I was inspecting him, he inspecting me. Out of nowhere, he lifted me up by firmly gripping my forearm. I winced at the pain inflicked.

Next, he pinned me onto a nearby brick wall with both my arms. He used one of his hands to hold both of my hands. I tried to free myself but he gave me a firm and stern "stop it". Without any second thoughts, I stopped.

"Look, I d-d-don't want a-any trouble. P-please let me g-go or i-i-i'll..." I stammered.

"Or you'll what? Call for the cops to rescue you?" he smirked as he reached for something in his back pocket. I used that opportunity to kick his sensitive part. He grunted in pain as he crossed his legs, letting profanity escape his mouth under his breath.

I ran. Scratch that. I bolted out of that alley as fast as my legs could. The stray cat leaped right in front of me. Screeching as it opened it's mouth---showcasing it's fang-like teeth. Great, the stray was in my way. Just as I was about to make my way around the cat, I felt strong arms wrap around my waist pulling me back into the alley.

My screams for help were muffled by a hand cupped on my mouth. He pulled out a switchblade from his back pocket. It all happened too fast. Before I could register what was happening, the blade was touching my neck.

"Now, quit this stupid act or I will slash your throat. Ain't afraid to do it since I've done it a couple of times before." He hoarsely whispered into my ear, forcing my head to be resting onto his shoulder. "I know you are part of one of them rich gangs, which one?"

"I-I-I've never been in a g-gang." I quietly stammered.

"Listen chick, I ain't got time for this. Which gang are you in?" He said as he tightened his grip. "Y'all rich gangs just do it for kicks. Us real gangs are damn real. Our gang is how we live life. Real life. The tough life."

I refused I was in any type of gang again.

"If you ain't got a gang then, join my gang... aight?"

I agreed to join his gang, then let go of me. He reached out the left side of his jean pocket to take out another switchblade. "Take it... you're one of us now. You'll need it to survive the streets, aight?" I resisted to take it, and he noticed it.

"The switchblade's for filing them nails of yours." he bluntly said placing the switchblade into my hands.

"Oh um.. thanks I guess." I said while I trembled. Out of nowhere he let out a laugh so obnoxiously loud, I thought the police would arrest him for having the weirdest and loudest laugh. To even think my laugh was weird.

"You're so damn giddy! Why would I, a member of a criminal gang, bother to give you any sort of utensil to file nails. Ain't nobody got time for that on the streets, bimbo!" He continued to laugh as he sat down leaning against the brick wall.

"How dare you even consider me a bimbo?! Just because I look good? Are you freaking kidding me? You have no idea how many high intelligential prizes and enrolments I have won. I am sick and tried of people who tell me what I am! But eh, what can I expect from a street bastard like you." I angrily blurted out. To be honest, I have no idea where that came from. I did not even have the audacity to say such to a person who held a switchblade to my neck. But, I just did. I'm a goner.

"So, I'm considered a street bastard?" He said as he raised one of his eyebrows. He made air quotations as he said, street bastard.

"Yeah!" I said still fuming with anger.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah!"

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah!"

"Oh yeah?"

"I can do this all night. I'm never backing down, you are a street bastard!"

"At least I'm your street bastard." He smirked, attempting to be all flirty.

"I never asked for one." I scoffed. He furrowed his eyebrows in disbelief. "Did you reject me?" He pouted, making a sad puppy face. I have to admit, the expression looked cute but he didn't faze me at all.

"Yeah I rejected you. You held a switchblade to my throat! You think I'm some girl who falls for any guy who has looks. Well honey you guessed wrong. Cause I'm that one girl who hates bad boys." I sassily said while I made dramatic arm movements.

"Ouch. That stung really bad. Gonna leave a scar." he sarcastically said as he put his hand on his heart.

I randomly asked, "What happened to the whole ain't and aight talk?"

He scratched the back of his head then said, "It's just an act, to sound tougher."

"Oh look at that... the pretty boy wants to look all tough and mighty. But on the inside his just a little baby." I sneered. One minute ago he held a blade at my neck, the next minute I'm talking casual with him?

"Oooh she just called me a pretty boy! She likes me! She likes me!" He sarcastically said pretending to talk to someone. I let out a sigh and rolled my eyes at him.

"What would give you the impression that I have any interest in you, hm?" I questioned as I put my hands on my hips. He looked up to the night sky then smirked. "You called me a pretty boy, that's why."

I didn't really have a response to what he said. Because it was that stupid. Just because you call a guy is a pretty boy or hot doesn't mean you like him. Maybe if he hadn't scared me to death the first time we met... there would be a possible teeny tiny interest for him. But no, I hated him.

"Are you just going to stare at me like that?" He asked as he raised one of his bushy eyebrows. I blinked back to reality, and I apologized immediately turning the opposite direction completely embarrassed. Why would I be embarrassed? No idea what so ever.

"You know you could just take a picture of me, then stare at it as long as you want." He said.

"Oh gee! I'd love to take a picture of you. Cause taking a picture of you is totally my priority right now!" I sarcastically said with a fake smile.

Then he just stared at me, for a long time. I was beginning to feel self conscious of myself. Did I have something on my face? Or did I wet myself? His brown eyes were so focused on me, I was nervous under his stare. Did he finally realize I wasn't his 'type of girl' ? Or was he planning to murder me with my big mouth. I knew I should have shut up, but I was angry and when you're angry you do not think clearly. I broke his stare by saying, "what?" after three long minutes pasted. He blinked his eyes back to reality then shook his head. I was surprised when he stood up, then moved my hair away from my eyes. "There's... there's..." he struggled to say.

"There's something on my lips? Pshh... I know all the pickup lines inside out. Then you're going to kiss me, right?" He was about to speak but I spoke louder this time, "I told you, I am not some bimbo. I am a girl with savvy in her brain. Go do your sick things with some other girl."

He widened his eyes, gave me this glare, then he looked side to side---as if he was checking if someone was watching us. I backed away from him, then crossed my arms. He gave me a cold glare, and put this seriousness in his voice. "Keep it down."

This time I raised my voice on purpose to show him he had no control over me. "I keep it down. You dare have the audacity to tell me to keep it down?! Me out of the billions of people in this world?"

"Listen I know you are mad at me. Call me a street bastard or douche but please stop yelling. They are going to come." He whispered as he firmly grabbed my forearm.

I furrowed my eyebrows as I jerked my arm away from his tight grip. "Does it look like I give a damn if your friends show up. Answer: no. I'll have them call the cops on you, idiot!"

He let out a loud grunt in frustration. On the inside I was terrified. On the outside I was strong. Then he shouted in my face, "You are the idiot here! I am trying to help you. I don't are how many damn intellectual awards you have won. They probably awarded them to you in pity because you are... a... a..."

"A what?" I said as tears began to cascade down my cheeks. He hadn't noticed my face, but when he looked... he couldn't continue. He began to approach me. A hug approach. I resisted pushing him with all my force. "Look... I am sorry I messed up and went all loco on you." He apologized as he bit his lips.

I did the unexpected. You'd probably think I would have slapped him across his pretty face or accepted his hug offer, but no I bolted out of that alley like there wasn't a tomorrow.
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Author's Note:

UPDATE [07/18/17]: This chapter will undergo major editing very soon.

Thank you so much for reading this!

I know this chapter was so boring, but I promise that it'll get better!

If you liked this, please feel free to star, comment, and put this in your library so that you are updated when I update this!

~Mizteddyz🌸