AN: Review and tell me what you all think of this first chapter!
Disclaimer: I do not own Once Upon a Time or any characters in it, except Amy and the other minor OC's.
"Amethyst! Get back here now!"
Whatever happens, I couldn't look behind me. I especially couldn't turn around and go back. Not to there.
"Don't make me come out in this damn rain and drag you back myself!"
I cringed but didn't stop. It was an empty threat. They were always empty threats. I'd tried to sneak out in the afternoon before he woke up from his nap, but no such luck. He came in my room to demand I make lunch only to discover that my clothes were all gone and I was already making a beeline for the front door.
Trying to ignore him, I hugged myself for warmth. It was dreary, cold, and raining. I'd literally just walked out the door and already I was soaked.
I couldn't stop myself. I turned around to look at who I liked to call my jailer, Paul. He was standing in the doorway of our shabby house. Excuse me, his shabby house.
"My name is Amy!" I snapped. "Only my mom can call me Amethyst."
That was a low blow and I knew it. My mother and him hadn't even been together a month when she abandoned us. I was ten years old. I understood why she wanted to get away from Paul. He was lazy, an alcoholic, and cruel. What I didn't get was why she got together with him in the first place. It's not like he had money or good looks to make up for how much of an asshole he was.
Before she left, she promised she'd send me a plane ticket to come to her wherever she was once she settled down. She never sent me a ticket though. She never even wrote. She'd always been cold to me, but never to the extent of just abandoning me.
Maybe she didn't have money to take care of me or maybe she was sick of me, like she grew sick of Paul. Either way, I still missed her. More importantly, I desperately needed to get away from this hell hole.
I guess in Paul's defense he could have kicked me out to live on the streets when she left. Well, then again I was the only one who kept the house in order and food on the table. I didn't know what he would do without me. Probably try and marry someone whose as dumb and naive as me.
When I turned fifteen I got a part-time job and hid the money I earned. Now I was close to being eighteen and had enough money to get away. I had planned on waiting until I was eighteen, after I graduated, but there was something inside me that was screaming for me to go now. So I left school and made the arrangements to get out of here.
I focused my attention back to Paul, who was staring at me with narrowed eyes, reflecting my own hatred.
"You'll never make it on your own," he growled, looking ready to hurl his beer bottle at me. "You're too gullible. You'll be eaten alive out there!"
I shrugged and adjusted my knapsack more securely on my shoulder. "Even if it does, wherever I go will be better than here. Thank you for keeping me alive and, well, somewhat safe for the past seven years but I'm done taking care of you. Good-bye, Paul, and good-luck."
I began walking again and this time I didn't look back.
"Um, miss? Excuse me, miss?"
I snapped back to reality and stared at the waitress in confusion. "What?"
"I asked you what you wanted to order?" She was giving me a weird look. I could see some concern in her eyes.
Come on, it was a freaking diner. I couldn't be the only runaway that's ever sat in this booth in dripping wet clothes and hair that resembled a drowned rat. I hadn't even made it to the airport before I ducked in here to get out of the rain and to get something to eat. I had already purchased my plane ticket to Maine, but now I didn't have much money left to spare on food.
Why Maine? I have absolutely no idea. I just felt so . . . drawn to it for some reason. I didn't know exactly what I'd do when I got there. Look for a town to live in, I suppose.
Man, I reaaally didn't think this plan through at all. Well, there was no going back now.
"Look, kid, I have other customers. What do you want to eat?" All signs of concern had left the middle-age waitress, leaving her to look quite exasperated. She had one of those weird hairstyles from the sixties. A beehive, I think. I glanced at her name tag. She even had a fitting name for the hairstyle. "Betty".
I glanced over the menu quickly. "I'll just have a blueberry muffin."
She blinked in surprise. "Is that all?"
Restraining myself from rolling my eyes, I said, "Yes. To go, please."
Betty shrugged. "Alright. Be right back."
She left to go get my muffin and I briefly debated the idea of whether to just leave and save my money. Until my stomach gave a loud growl, demanding that I feed it. So I got my muffin and put it in my bag from the plane trip.
As I was counting out a tip, Betty spoke up. "Look, if you're in some kind of trouble there are people that can help."
I smiled at her and put some money in her hand. "Thanks, but I don't need help. I'll be fine when I get away."
She chewed on her bottom lip for a few moments before nodding. "Okay. Good luck, kid."
I exited the diner, pulling my hood up, and stood on the side of the road to try and get a taxi. It took me ten minutes to get one to pull over for me. Thankfully, the taxi driver got me to the airport in pretty good time.
Just in time to see Paul standing by the front doors, scanning the area. I should have known he wouldn't have let his meal ticket go so easily. At least he hadn't gotten the cops involved. Yet.
"Just awesome," I hissed. I pulled out some money and handed it to the driver.
"Just stop right here, thanks. You can keep the change if you stay parked here for two minutes."
I didn't give him time to answer. I got out of the cab and crouched behind it. I took off my zip-up hoodie and dug through my knapsack until I found my only other hoodie. Hopefully, Paul would be looking for a teenage girl wearing a white one, like I had been wearing early, and not a black one like now. There was the issue with my bag though. He'd recognize it.
I stood up and the cab immediately drove off, nearly going over my toes. I began to walk towards the airport entrance. As I got closer, I edged my way close to some parents with five hyper kids and put my hood up. If I was lucky, Paul wouldn't notice me.
Sure enough, I blended right in with them. He didn't give me a second glance as we walked by. After that, everything went smoothly. I got through security with no problems, though it sure took a long time. I made it onto my plane just in time and settled somewhat comfortably in my third class seat.
By the time the flight took off, I had already devoured my muffin and made friends with an adorable baby boy, whose mother looked like she hadn't slept in days. Once seeing I wasn't a crazy person that would run off with the kid or something, she gratefully let me play with him while she took a short nap.
And by short nap, I mean she slept for the entire flight and didn't wake up until the plane touched the ground of Maine. More specifically, she jolted awake when the perky flight attendant made the announcement that we'd arrived.
"You're very good with him," the woman commented as everyone stood to grab their bags.
"I love kids," I said, handing him back to her. "And animals."
I grabbed my bag from the storage above me and followed the cluster of people out of the plane. At least I didn't have to waste time getting luggage since I only had my own bag.
It wasn't until I stepped foot outside of the airport that it hit me.
I was free.
Finally, I was on my own. I didn't have anyone to tear me down anymore, or push me around, or hurt me. Instead of dancing around and singing like I wanted to, I kept my cool. I simply got a taxi to the nearest, and cheapest, motel to stay for the night until I could figure out where I could go to find a town and get a job so I could get my own place to stay.
When I went inside the dinky motel, it was all I could do from bolting. I was immediately hit with the smell of cigarette smoke and my eyes nearly bled from the amount of tacky furniture. Loud music was playing from somewhere. There were teenagers my age, as well as young adults, practically everywhere. All of them were either drinking some kind of alcohol or smoking. The girl running the front desk was dressed like a hooker, though she wasn't much older than me.
"Quite a party you've got going on here," I commented as I gave her the money for my room.
She beamed. "Isn't it fantastic? My parents own this place and they actually pay me to do night shifts. I get to throw parties all the time."
"It's a good thing they trust you," I said wryly as she handed me my room key.
"Right?!" she agreed cheerfully. "Once you put your stuff away feel free to join in! Everyone's great about sharing!"
I forced a smile on my lips. "Thanks, but I'm not much of a party person."
"Ohh you're all innocent and stuff," she said nodding.
I made a face but didn't disagree. I pushed past a crowd of people with a bong and down a hall into my room. It wasn't any less tacky than the lobby, but at least I had privacy. All of these ugly colors, weird smells and just plain stress from the day was giving me a pounding headache. I wondered if the front desk chick had any Tylenol. After all the hangovers she must have to deal with everyday it seemed like a good possibility.
So I left the safety of my room and made my way back to the girl at the front desk.
"Hey, do you happen to have any Tylenol or Ibuprofen?" I asked her.
"Of course!" she responded as if I was stupid for thinking she wouldn't. She pulled out a purse from behind the desk and began to rummage through it.
"I know it's in here somewhere," she said, in frustration.
"I have one." I looked to my left to see a cute guy. He held out a pill to me. "She gave it to me yesterday and I put it in my pocket and forgot about it."
I looked back at the desk chick who stared at him blankly for a moment before her eyes suddenly lit up. "Oh, yeah!"
I took the pill from his hand and examined it. It seemed safe enough.
I put the pill in my mouth and managed to swallow it without choking. "Thanks," I said to him gratefully. "It's been a long day."
"No problem," he said with a lazy smile. "Why don't you come sit with me and relax for a bit?"
I hesitated. I had never hung out with an attractive guy before and I'd certainly never been in a situation like this. I had home-schooled myself so I wasn't even used to being around other people my age.
"Sure," I finally said, feeling bold. "Let's go."
We walked around some people and settled down on a couch.
"So what's your name?" he asked me.
"Amy," I answered. "You?"
"Brandon," he replied with a dazzling smile.
I nodded, not quite sure what else to say.
"Want to dance?" he asked me, gesturing towards a group of people who were grinding and dancing.
I chewed on my bottom lip, trying to think of how to say no.
He laughed. "Come on, let me guess. It's your first night away from mommy and daddy."
"Something like that," I said tiredly. This guy was already getting on my nerves and we've barely spoken.
"Then come celebrate," he pressed.
"Well . . ." I said slowly. "Okay, sure. Why not?"
He pulled me over to the people dancing. At first I felt awkward and weird. I didn't like being touched and it seemed like everyone was pressed against me. Then, out of nowhere, this shot of exhilaration went through me and dancing seemed like the perfectly logical thing to do.
For the first time in my life, I let myself go. I swayed to the music and even let Brandon put his arms around me.
But then suddenly a wave of dizziness hit me like a ton of bricks. The room began to swim around me in a thick, hazy blur. The music seemed to get robotic and more loud.
"Brandon," I said, slurring. "What's going on?"
I felt myself falling forward. I almost fell to the ground. He wrapped his arms around me and picked me up bridal style.
I wanted to scream, to hurt him, to do something. Anything but allow him to carry me to a motel room like he was doing.
I heard the bedroom door slam shut and I felt myself drop onto something soft. The bed.
"Please don't," I begged him weakly as he began groping me. "Stop, please!"
But he wasn't stopping. He just kept touching me. I prayed, though I didn't deserve God's help. Paul was right, I was just a innocent, gullible fool. I deserved everything I was going to get. What was I thinking?! Taking a pill from a complete stranger at a party was so beyond stupid.
Despite how foolish I was, I couldn't just lay there and take it. I tried telling Brandon to stop but I was so weak I could hardly talk. When he paused to take off his clothes, I glanced outside the window and caught sight of two bright stars. Wishing on a star was for children, but it was all I had left to try. The one on the right was brighter, so I stared at that one.
"Please," I whispered, a tear sliding down my cheek.
Brandon grabbed my chin and wrenched my face to look at him. "Don't worry, Amy," he said, a wild, psychotic look in his eye, his hand going to the button of my jeans. "You'll love it."
"Don't," I pleaded weakly, trying to keep my eyes from shutting.
Suddenly, the window opened with a harsh slam. He stopped and we both stared at it. It was eerily quiet except for the whistling of the wind.
"Must have been the wind," he said finally, turning back to me.
Before his fingers even touched me, he flew backwards and slammed into the wall. I heard a loud crack, followed by him moaning in pain.
Something dark darted across the room. "Who's there?" I whimpered.
In response, a shadowy figure with a pair of glowing eyes dropped down from the ceiling.
I stared at it, wide-eyed. The thing stretched a hand out to me.
"I can't move," I tried to explain, my eyes drooping shut. "I can't . . ."
Before I went unconscious, I felt something pick me up.