My name is Delilah Mae Johnson. Most people think i have a perfect life, but i don't. Even though my parents are rich -as in if money were dirt, they'd be filthy- im unliked, unloved, and unworthy of the family name. See, unlike my sister, im not a preppy, pink wearing, boyband loving, girly girl. I am an emo, black wearing, rock band loving, punk girl.
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My mom hit me again. I waited until they all went to the movies. Then i snuck out grabbing $500 out of the safe, my phone that is supposed to be mine but never is, and my beats. I then walked out the door and didn't look back. I was walking to Starbucks and ran into this guy. Of course i wasn't paying any attention. "Im sorry wasn't paying attention." I muttered. "No it was my fault. My friends are driving me insane. You need a hand?" He offered me a hand up. I hope he didn't see.
<Luke's P.O.V.>
I saw the bruises on her arms. But the one that hit me the most was the big one on her stomach. Like she'd been hit with a baseball bat.
<Delilah's P.O.V.>
"This'll sound weird but wanna grab a coffee and maybe exchange stories?"
"I ain't got anything better to do."
So we walked into starbucks and sat there over a latte swapping stories like lifelong friends.