DISCLAIMER::: I took a tiny bit of inspiration in this chapter from The Starving Artist by Blueeyedgirl. I unintentionally did it and I would like to apologize to the author! Make sure to go check out The Starving Artist, it is by far the best story I have ever read!
The place was nice. Both Him and I had separate rooms and our own bathrooms. He-no, Matthew, was some sort of manager at some big shot company. He had lots of money and a big home. He had a fiancé who lived with him. Boy, would that be awkward. Imagine you were the fiance and you were told your soon-to-be-husband’s little sister would be moving in with you. I didn’t sleep. I stayed up all night calling the prison to see if I could speak with Mom. At about six am, she answered.
“Hello?” Mom said. Her voice was strained.
“Mom! It’s me, Stephanie!” I was so relieved.
“Stephanie? I don’t know any Stephanies,” Her voice became desperate and she sounded on the verge of tears.
“I’m your daughter,” I was beginning to get worried.
“I don’t have a daughter,” She was definitely crying now.
“I saw you last week!” I said. Tears now spilled out of my eyes.
“I don’t have a daughter! Leave me alone!” She yelled into the phone. There were voices in the background, and Mom hung up. I felt dejected. I had been disowned by my own Mom. She didn’t even remember me. I felt sick to my stomach. I went to my private bathroom, locked the door and cried. I sat on the toilet crying for hours. I heard a knock on the door.
“Hey! We have to leave soon!” It was Matthew.
“Let me finish getting ready!” I replied, trying not to sound like I was crying. It didn’t work.
“Are you okay?” Matthew asked.
“Fine,” I lied.
“Okay, then…” He didn’t seem to buy it.
About ten minutes later I came out. My eyes were red and my throat was raw, but Matthew didn’t say anything about it. When we arrived, I dumped my bags in my new room and decided to walk around the neighborhood. It was now dark outside. I soon approached a gang of middle-aged guys, a few girls with them. They looked like a typical motorcycle gang. I turned to go in the other direction, but who seemed to be the leader approached me.
“Hey,” He said and smiled. It was an evil smile. “You wanna come with us? We’re going to a club not too far away.”
The rest of the gang watched on in amusement.
“No, thanks. I have to get home, anyways!” I smiled nervously. The guy grabbed my wrist. My heart pounded. His stub nails dug into my skin. I saw droplets of blood fall from where he held. “I said no thank you!” I yelped. I kicked out my leg and made contact with his.
“Hey, show some respect, girl!” He kneed me in the gut and threw me on the pavement. I didn’t get up. I didn’t move. I hoped he thought I was passed out. He didn’t. He grabbed my forearm and yanked me back up to a standing position. “Come with us, girl.” He growled in my ear. Suddenly, the gang leader was knocked to the ground. I fell down onto the cement. Tears spilled out of my eyes and dotted the sidewalk. I heard punches being thrown. I person grabbed my arm. I flinched and curled up.
“They’re gone,” A voice whispered. I peeked over at who had spoken. It was a guy about my age. He had no shirt on, but wore sweatpants. He must’ve been out for a run. “Are you okay?” He asked worriedly. I didn’t respond, but got to my feet. My ribs hurt from when he had kneed me and my arm was scratched up form when he had thrown me on the pavement. I moaned and clutched my stomach.
“Yeah, I just need to get home,” I said. Pain coursed through my body.
“You don’t look okay. I’ll take you to the nearest hospital to get you examined,” The guy offered.
“No, really, I’m fine!” I insisted. I held back another moan. My ribs ached ferociously.
“You’re pale. I’m getting you to the hospital,” He grabbed my arm again and led me to a car parked about a block away. I got in the passenger’s seat and buckled the seatbelt. I closed my eyes and faced the window. I had a headache. The guy started up his car.
“What hurts?” He asked. I looked at him. Worry lines creased his young face. He was handsome, I will admit. He had brown hair with a swooshy wave style that was ‘in’ right now and dazzling blue eyes. Their icy gaze looked into my own green eyes.
“Nothing, really! I’m fine!” I lied.
“No, you’re not!” He reached for my midsection and pressed down a bit. I winced and slapped his hand. “Your ribs.” How had he known? “I’m a med student.” He explained. So he was in college? He looked a lot younger, although the worry lines on his face made him look like a twenty year old. Other than that, he looked sixteen.
“Fine, yes, my ribs. Now that I’ve got a diagnosis, can I just go home already?” I asked.
“What were you doing out this late?” He asked, ignoring my plea.
“Exploring,” I answered simply.
“Oh. Did you just move here?’ He asked.
“Not exactly,” I replied.
“I’m Tyler, but my friends call me Ty,” He said.
“I’m Stephanie, but my mom calls me Steph,” I replied. He seemed disturbed that I didn’t say my friends. Well, that’s because I didn’t have any. We pulled into the hospital parking lot. I unbuckled the seatbelt and groaned as it slapped across my chest. Ty helped me out of the car, gripping my arm through the whole process. Just getting into the lobby was a major struggle. I groaned with every step. Finally we were sitting in the ER lobby. Ty was talking to the lady at the front desk, explaining everything. I had texted Matthew I was staying over at a friend’s for the night. I didn’t want to tell him the truth. He responded ”okay”, like he didn’t care. We waited about an hour, and were finally seen. I got an x-ray. The ribs were bruised, but not seriously damaged. Only bruised. I couldn’t believe it. They hurt so much! I was given pain killers and a date to come back. When the medical bill came back, I began to panic. It was hundreds of dollars! I didn’t have that kind of money. And Matthew could never know. My breaths became ragged and quick. I sat down and stared at the numbers. It would take me months to pay off off of my allowance. And I was too young to get a good paying job. Ty sat down next to me and took the bill. He pulled a check from his pocket and filled it out, attaching it to the bill.
“No,” I said. “I can pay my own bills.”
“I’m the one who took you here so I’m going to be the one that pays,” Ty argued. I tried to grab the bill, but he pulled it away. Ty got up and handed the check to the lady at the counter. The pain in my ribs had dulled slightly, so it was easier to walk. We got into Ty’s car and he revved the engine.
“Where to?” Ty asked. I racked my brain, trying to think of the neighborhoods Matthew and I had passed on the way to his house.
“13 Mills Creek,” I lied.
“That’s pretty far away from where you were… you know,” Ty said.
“Well, I was out for awhile,” I replied.
“It’s dangerous being out on your own, especially now that that gang knows your face. I would avoid them. They’ve done some pretty bad stuff to people who get on their bad side,” Ty warned me. Here’s where I got quiet. “Sorry.”
“No need to apologize,” I said. Ty looked at me. And, for once, I felt normal.
Realistic Fiction
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Well done! I like your work!
In “scratched up form” it should be “scratched up from.”
I like your characters. Interesting.
Thank you so much for the suggestion!
Keep writing!
Thank you for advertising “The Starving Artist!” I am beyond grateful!
It’s no problem! I love reading the story, it is by far my favorite on the site!