Mistakes not forgiven.[4]

I started at my work and this was only so he didn’t know that I was devising a plan to get out of here. I had to hurry though because the only real way for me to get out of here is to get my work done. I could probably get away with some stuff if I hurried, like dished I would just make sure there was no easily visible yuck on there an I was set. I hurried through my work finishing just as he walked into the house, I had done the best I could, now I just had to wait for the results of what he had to say to me. He examined the room and gave me the nod I knew all so well, you can go to your room. I quickly paced my way to the bathroom with my meager supply of makeup, I stuffed most of it into my pocket, and if he asked I would say I hated make up and I wanted to get rid of most of it. I ran back to my room, full of energy my light brown hair flourishing behind me and I almost squealed with joy as I realized that this was it no more problems and no more mean men and rude boys, I was almost free, I would pack as much as I could in my back pack and duffle saying that I had had a lot of homework and a big project due, but only if someone asked, but wait, I was living in the only room with a window that you could easily reach the ground, s I made my way to my window, perfect, it was almost night, I could leave tonight instead and run, just run to y friends house and stay safe, then have the police and have them go there. I would be safe. I realized I didn’t have much worth bringing, then I realized, I couldn’t leave tonight, I would have to gather as many family things as I could, I was doomed here another night. My thoughts raced as I thought about all the ways my plan could fail, we didn’t have school tomorrow and the chance of getting away before 7 o’clock was hard, maybe….maybe I could got “shopping” tomorrow. I could call someone and let them know my plan, so I could know I was going to be safe. My min wandered to thoughts of when life was good, before my dad decided that getting drunk was better then having a family. The first time he had come home drunk was when I was 7 and he had been at a friends, so when he came home I went to jump into his lap on the couch but he then pushed me away and told me to go play with my dollies. I sat in my bed crying, I wanted my daddy. But now I didn’t, I wanted him to die and with the other boys too. Ever since mom had died he had married and remarried 5 times, and that’s over the course of 10 years, I am now 17. My birthday is coming up. May 2^nd. I knew I would not get a single card, present or happy birthday from my family, I had none, that’s why when my father murdered my mother we had a family friend come and live with us so we didn’t g into foster care, we thought he was going to be better when he got out. We were wrong. I suddenly heard a knock on my door. My dad walked in and threw the phone at me, giving me the glare to keep it short and no telling him off. I was surprised that someone would even call me. It was Molly and she wanted to know how I was, and I said fine, just dreading the test in history the next time we had school, we had come up with a secret way of telling each other things on the phone, like if I was dreading pain I knew might come I talked about a test, if I was hurt I talked about p.e. and if I was scared and needed her to call the police, which never happened, I would talk about how I thought Mrs. Welch was evil and should just disappear. We ended the conversation within 10 minutes and she repeated my name a few times and said she wishes me to have a good nights sleep and to see her soon. She hung up. I would see her soon, she would be my escape. I stared at the phone, then for some reason at my wall, full of pictures, and realized how good I was at art. My name I had painted a while back when my dad had come home with a paint can and paint brush for me to paint his room with. I painted my name. AMBER! Just like that. I felt so proud, just then I realized, someone was watching me through the window…and it wasn’t my dad!