Chapter 2

As I make my way downstairs to see what my foster mother was on about this time, I get to the bottom of the stairs to see her standing by the kitchen bar. While my foster father...or as I call him Mr. Ben, is sitting beside her, on one of the kitchen bar stools, smoking a cigar and drinking a beer.

I get scared when I see her already making the "your in so much trouble" face. I actually think that my heart plummets to my stomach, as my face drains of color.

as I walk toward here I answer respectively as I can

"Yes ma'am, is there something that you needed my assistance with"

she turns her nose up and glares at me. I think, "what have I ever done to you, for you too hate me so much. I have always been respectful, I never purposely break the rules, I get good grades in school and I make sure that I am always quite and out of your way as much as possible."

But I do not say any of my thoughts out loud, knowing it would only lead me to a slap in the face or maybe even way worse...

I then am cut out of my thoughts as my previous imagination came true when saw a glimpse of movement out of my side view...then as a hard hand came down so fast I did not even have time to move my hands up to protect myself....a hard slap was sent to my face

I kept my face down...refusing to bring my hand up to comfort the hurting flesh that was throbbing and I know turning bright red in the shape of a hand print.

"Did I not I ask you a question Ansley" she yells.

I quiver when I see that while she was asking the question I had let myself go into my mind and thoughts once again.

I hesitate to answer, slightly shuffling my feet, while keeping my eyes anywhere but looking her and my foster dad

"Ansley" she screeches in disbelief from my rare disobedience,

I quickly answer as I finally meet eye contact with her..."y-yes ma'am I-I was j-just....u-um....d-do you m-mind please r-repeating the q-question?

She clicks her tongue knowingly. But, surprisingly lets my mistake slide.

"I asked you, why you did you not do the dishes and clean up your school papers on the kitchen counter."

I knew immediately what she was talking about...I had left some graded school papers on the kitchen counter for her to look over...like a responsible teenager. And the dishes...I did wash them. She just decided to have a late night snack. I mean does she really expect me to just wake up whenever she decides to come into the kitchen and eat...especially when it is really late at night and I'm already in bed. I have school five days a week, I cannot just wake up...come down...and wash her one dish.

I shake my thoughts out of my head, knowing they will only get me in trouble.

"yes ma'am, I left the papers on the on the counter for you to look at...um...my teacher gave them to us yesterday and I thought you would want to see them."

She rolls her eyes at me and scoffs..."do you really think that I care about your stupid grades you foolish idiotic girl"

That brought tears to my eyes. I hate when people call me names. No mater if I'm used to them being mean to me and calling me names often.

I lower my head as a tear slips out and rolls down my face. I cannot let them see me cry, I think to myself. They will just laugh at me for being so weak.

As I shift my feet and I look up. I see my foster dad looking at me in amusement. I was wondering why he was making that face, but I soon was broken from my thoughts when I felt a blow to my left cheek.

The force of the blow caused my small body to immediately crumble. As I hit the ground I hiss from the feel of the intense pain of my scraped knees and right elbow, from trying to stop my fall. I look up, not caring anymore about the tears, as I let them flow freely down my face.

my foster mom is just smirking at my tears and that sobers me up quickly. I shoot the hardest glare I could and slowly rise to my feet. She soon notices the daggers I'm shooting her way, because she stops smirking and looks scared, but quickly masks it with a pissed off look.

She starts walking toward me and I come to my senses. Oh god, what have I just done. Right before she reaches me I dart to the left sprinting towards the door as fast as I possibly can. once I reach it I swing it open and take off running to my favorite place...the forest.

I don't look back as I can hear my name being called. Too scared of the consequences.

My hair flies behind me as I run as fast as I can, fleeing from my abusive home, not even knowing where I am going, just the direction I'm headed.

I reach the tree line to the beautiful forest but I don't stop. Not even when the tears feel like they are freezing to my face, from the cold. I just keep my feet going as fast as my adrenaline is pumping.

little did she know that she had went deeper into the forest than ever before.....