You run from your parents for @ascool_14

"You little bitch!" Your dad yells at you, throwing another punch at your cheek. You fall over, but are back up in an instant, your eyes burning.

"I'm fucking done with you guys!" You tell, rushing out before they can say anything. The door slams behind you.

"And don't come back!" Your mother yells. Tears steam down your face as you hold your sore cheek. You wish you didn't care so much, but you do. You always did. You just wanted someone who would love you unconditionally, like your parents never did. You walked away from that house for the last time, no clothes or a jacket, other than what you're wearing, no food or money, not even a toothbrush with you. You just couldn't be there anymore. You only looked back once. Your silent tears had turned into loud sobs by the time you got to the lot. There was a couch that somebody had dumped there, so you sat on it, putting your head in your hands.

"Are you okay?" Someone asked you after a few minutes. You jumped about 10 feet in the air, looking up. A guy with tanned skin, long, brown greasy hair and a scar going from his temple to his eye was sitting right in front of you. You blushed, not realizing anyone was here.

"I... I'm fine," you mutter, your voice shaking. He stood up and sat next to you on the couch.

"What happened?" He asked. You couldn't stop your tears as you explained about your parents. About how they'd been doing this from when you were five, and emotionally abusing you even before. How you just wanted someone who cared.

"I care," he said. "Mine are the same way." You wiped your tears away, finally seeing that you weren't the only one who had unloving parents.

"Is that how you got your scar?" You asked, pointing to it. He shook his head.

"Nah, that was the Socs." The Socs didn't like you much either. Then again, did they like anyone other than each other? Did they even like even like each other? Probably not...

"I'm sorry... I'm Y/N, by the way," you introduced.

"I-I'm Johnny Cade," he introduced. You could tell by his unintentional stutter that he was pretty shy. But there was something about him that you liked, and it wasn't just that he was handsome.

"It's nice to meet you, Johnny," you said. And then, hoping you weren't being too formal, you said, "Would you like to go out sometime?" He looked pretty happy as he said yes, his voice confident.