Fan Fiction ❯ From Rags to Happiness ❯ Is This Called Life? ( Chapter 3 )

WARNINGS!!! Refer to chapter one. I hate writing things over and over again. -^^-'' This is the last warning.

Disclaimer: I suppose there's really nothing to disclaim here, is there? This is my little work of insanity after all! -^^- That means that if you want to USE THIS SOMEWHERE, please LET ME KNOW FIRST! I like to know these things! I'm proudn of this work for reasons I have yet to discover and I want to know who else cares about it sooooo much, they wanna use it themselves.

Feedback: Much appreciated, but I refuse to beg! -^^- We all have our little quirks, non? But it IS nice to let someone know if they totally suck or not.....

It was dark. There weren't many people around, and she couldn't see the faces of those who were. They all had umbrellas. It wasn't raining, but it was cold. She had gotten soaked after she had stolen teh wallet away from the puddle. She had been spinning in circles for quite some time before one of the no-faced people had caught her attention. She tried running after it, but it vanished. She knew that pursuing it down the street corner would lead to a very scary place, but she still had to restrain herself from chasing it down. She sat down on the corner and reflected. Had there been a face? Maybe she had seen one? But nobody had faces here, it was why she was spinning in the first place. Maybe the dog would tell her the way back to the bus and she wouldn't fall back into the puddle.......

Her eyes snapped open. She could vaguely remember her dream, the perfect sense of it all. She tried to grasp onto one of the last bits of it, a part about a dog stealing her umbrella, but it slipped away before she could connect it to anything else. She sighed and blinked. The clock's glare in her face told her it was about two or so in the morning. She let her mind wander to feel how her body was doing and found that the pain wasn't sharp any more. Now it was a dull throbbing. She was afraid to move lest it flare up again, so she just laid there. The blanket had shifted downwards in her sleep and she felt out the hem of it with her fingers. There was a loose string.

She realized that there wouldn't be much more sleeping this night and attempted to turn over. Setting her face for a dance on the blade of hurting, she got ready to roll over.

Surprisingly it didn't hurt very much. Or at least not as much as she first would have guessed. Her ribs were still screaming, yes, but the rest of her was only throbbing. She counted it as an improvement and slid the blanket down a bit more to see why her ribs were her sole worry.

Her torso was covered with new bruises next to a few of the old. There were a few odd lumps here and there that weren't from punches, though. Taking a second to prod very gently at one, she yanked her hand away as quick as possible. It hurt! She figured there must be something wrong with her ribcage. Twitching a muscle experimentally, she mentally confirmed it. Something must be broken or fractured for it to hurt that much. Punches didn't hurt like this. She sighed again, already feeling tears welling into her eyes. Now what would her father say? She wouldn't be able to get up in the morning with these and he wouldn't want her to laze about all day. She stopped the tears before they had a chance to spill down her cheeks. It wasn't worth it to cry now. But she knew how to help the damage some.

She reached under the bed and her fingers encountered the roll of cloth she had stolen. It was a bitt grubby, but at least they would wrap okay for now. She was getting an idea as she sat up and unrolled the bandages. Neither her father or brothers had seriously broken anything before now. Sure, a fractured arm here and there, but they healed okay. She knew how to fix the little things and her eldest brother would sometimes help her with the harder stuff if she gave him something good. But they had never messed her up this good and she knew for a genuine fact nobody would pay her medical bill even if they did take her to a hospital. She had to leave this place and soon.

That idea scared her the most. She had never functioned well in a house, how would she ever get on outside? Her survival instinct wouldn't allow her to stay here much longer, but it wouldn't be much use out there either. She finished wrapping her middle, taping it up with the last of her surgical tape. She tried standing, and finally got up on her third try. She was directly in front ofd her mirror and she had to smother some hysterical laughter at the sight of herself. She ws wearing nothing but the bandages and it made her look like half a ghost or something. She eventually calmed the hysteria some and slipped into a pair of jeans she had laying around. She also slipped a sports bra gingerly over the wrappings, doing her best not to stretch the skin around the area. She gave up on thinking about a shirt as pulling it over her head would mess everything up. So she just grabbed her trenchcoat and buttoned it up.

More questions hit her as she took a long pause at the top of the stairs. Where would she go? What would happen to her? How would she eat and house herself, and how would she be able to afford the cost of living once she got out of here? How was she going to get out of here without getting the family involved? She quickly learned to turn her brain off and act on autopilot for a while. She slipped downstairs without alerting anyone, taking a moment to pause at the bottom. She waited for the pain in her sides to ease as she checked for anything unusual. There was no motin and she silently padded into the kitchen for supplies, carefully holding the pain source with every step.

She got some snacks out of the cabinet and a bottle of water from the fridge. Her brother would be mad at her for that one, he always went to practice with it. She shook off the feeling and tackled the problem of the back door.

It was both locked and bolted. Even if she locked the lock part when she left, the bolt would be wide open. Then they would know right away what she had done and would want to hurt her all the more for it. She stood in front of the portal staring at the lock. Was she going to be stopped by this door ultimately? Would her newfound sense of survival be denied?

Then it hit her. Nobody woke up earlier than she did. She usually left right when her father's clock went off. She left the stupid bolt undone every school morning, and technically it was Thursday. She smiled and whispered a thank you under her breath. She got a handtowel to muffle the noise as she clicked the lock open and eased te bolt home. She was almost done! She put the towel back and paused after she laid hands on the knob. She took a deep breath. Taking a firmer grip on the handle, she closed her eyes and opened to portal. It creaked and she stopped stock still, hoping nobody had heard the noise. After a moment frozen and nothing to worry about, she took another breath and opened i the rest of the way. She looked outside.

There lied freedom. She wouldn't have to worry about aany moer broken ribs, cigarettes, blaming, brothers, parents. No more thinking about bathtubs and teachers, or funny looks at school. No more hoping she wouldn't be late to the bus or slaving over chores. No more teasing, pain, or fear. This was the worl in all its beauty.

It scared the sense out of her.

She froze in the doorway, suddenly aware of just how much complaining her arms and legs were doing, not to mention the welts she could feel on her face. She knew what she was risking here. Now she didn't know if she could actually go through. Her father hadn't given her permission, she would surely get into trouble when they found her. Maybe they would actually.....No. That didn't bear thinking about right now. What had she been thinking, wandering out here without asking, with such high plans in her mind? Hows tupid was she, really?

She was more than happy to turn back into the house. She almost shut the door again. But she actually looked into the home she had occupied since before she could remember. Her hand slid lifelessly from the doorknob. Was she destined to stay here for the rest of her short existance? Was she really meant for that? She looked from the kitchen into the living room. There were bloodstains in the carpet from her earlier beating. Her father would probably have that taken care of later today. And he would be mad that she had bled on the white plush. She could now see the sock she had lost before that he had apparently missed. She looked at just about every sopt in that room and couldn't find one, not even one good memory to associate with any of it. Not a one. That settled it.

She gripped her stuff tighter than before and whirled around as fast as she could to face the night sky. She never looked back as the door slid shut with a barely audible snick. She stepped off the steps in a happy daze. What the hell was she thinking? She really did wish she knew what waas happening, but she settled for feeling the exhilaration. She went into the grass, into the street, and down the block. Nothing would stop her now, not when she finally felt right. She hoped she could hold onto the feeling for a long time before her family found her again, but she would agree to go back for just a few moments of this. Things finally felt as they should feel.

It was with a huge grin pasted on her face that she went down the street. A piece of the dream struck her and she felt even better.

Her umbrella had gone flying. It took her a minute, but she could see the dog smiling at her. He was running off with her umnbrella. She almost felt sad, but realized how wet she was anyways. She began to spin in place, waiting for the dog to come back. Maybe with her umbrella. She caught a glipmse of what looked like a face. It ws impossible, though. This place was well known for people not having to wear them all day. She stopped spinning to find the faced person and began to chase the figure. It was in black, like all the others. That's how she knew it was supposed to be the one person who was wearing their face. It rounded the corner without her, though. And she would have followed it if she hadn't known about the blood on teh other side of the wall.

The only reason her face went back to normal was when she realized the dog never did show her the way to the bus. Pity. She was hoping to talk with the Prince.

Okay! Hows that for a follow up? I have lost all control of my evil muses plans. I may have a plot line, but it may be a bit glitchy. Just stay with me, okay? I may or may not be adding another chapter to AFJ depending on how quickly I can get the next chapter for this out. Sorry! This might be going slower than it has been for a while seeing as I have those cursed MidTerms coming up. *You are evil, Russell! EVIL!* Not only that, but I may be spending more time on my forums. All I ask is that you beear with me. This will actually be finished at some point or other.

Tris: ::In super sarcastic b!tch mode:: Yeah, right, uh-huh. sure, if you say so!

Chibi: ::Glares:: Do I need to find my mallet?

Tris: O.O Not really, no! (5700p|d p5ych0)

Chibi: >:( I heard that! |{0|^| (4|\| j00 73|_|_ |V|3 |'|V|5700|0||) |^||{3|\| j00 |)0|\|'7 |^|0|)\|<, |{|_||{!!!!????

Tris: O.O I bow to your superior l337 skillz, master!

Chibi: ::Looking superior:: Damn straight! I still have your pocky, remeber?

Tris: O.O I am very very very very very sorry!

Chibi: -^^- Okay! Here! ::Gives Tris some pocky::

Tris: Heaven......-^^-