Chapter 5: The Transportation Styles Of Pat And Turner

The Open Sidewalk, Baltiney, New York...

Misty could feel the biting coldness with each passing step as she moved about the sidewalk aimless in her attempts at direction as she'd been in no hurry to go anywhere since awakening. She wasn't foolish enough to ply her trade in the light of day with so many patrol cars out and about and she had no idea if and when she'd reach her usual corner due to having been brought to the motel by her latest client. In addition to the cold, she did her best to ignore the rumbling within her empty belly since she'd left the motel just before check-out time. Most people would have crumbled by now, she wagered as she continued her slow walk away from the motel. She'd been on the streets for three years and already seemed to be a well-established student of the school of hard knocks.

It wasn't an ideal thing to do, running away at the age of fourteen, but she didn't have much of a choice about it on her part.

On that fateful day, the bastard that she refused to call father had been on another one of his usual tirades following his latest round of meth and alcohol consumption. Her drug-addled mother was passed out in the bedroom no doubt with a dirty needle in her arm and hadn't been much fun when Kent awoke aroused. He shuffled out of the bedroom naked as the day he was born despite knowing all too well that his only daughter would be getting up for school.

Kenton "Kent" Allen Davers was often clean-shaven, his pale body so thin that without effort one could see his ribs and other bones beneath the surface of his skin. He stood at an average height, with dark blue eyes given to deep sockets and obvious bags beneath them. He was every bit the asshole everyone in town thought he was and then some when it came to his treatment of his wife and daughter. Behind closed doors his temperament was vile and he wasn't above slapping either of them around when he didn't get his way and when the mood struck him. Melissa learned to steer clear of him early on after a particularly traumatizing incident where he had ordered her to sit on his lap when he'd been wearing only boxer shorts and was stroking himself while watching what young Misty would come to know to have been pornography on the television.

His cock was average-sized from what Misty recalled of it due to him always having it out in her presence stroking himself until it became an angry red coloration and pulsed when he looked at her. There were times when he'd force her to stroke him and the result of his thin white release covered her hands and chest while he got a good laugh at her humiliation and disgust before sending her away.

Misty rolled her eyes thinking back on it.

She hated Kent Davers with every fiber of her being. He was supposed to be her protector in a world where monsters existed beyond the darkened closets of childhood memories but instead, he'd been the worst one of the whole lot.

Misty continued her walk amid the cold as her mind took her back to that awful day her life took a turn for the worst even with everything that Kent was capable of back then.

She had just gotten up after the alarm sounded and was attempting to get dressed for school. She pulled back the covers on her surprisingly decent bed, the white comforter barely leaving her hands as she sat up to reveal she'd been wearing a tight white t-shirt and white pajama bottoms with pink polka dots. She'd taken to sleeping in nothing less than pants due to a different incident where she'd been in a nightgown and Kent had come into her room when she'd been asleep and was fondling her as she dozed even going so far as to lick her nether region before she awoke and found a means of driving him away. The grogginess of sleep had barely started to leave her before Kent came bursting through her bedroom completely naked stroking his cock and glaring at her. She was disgusted at the sight of him in general, but to see him stroking himself while naked made her stomach turn all the more.

"What are you doing in here!?" she growled resisting the urge to throw something at him on the off chance that she'd miss.

"That how you talk to your Daddy little girl?" growled Kent.

"You ain't much of a Daddy." countered Melissa.

Kent seemed to take offense to her words as he kicked her bedroom door closed.

"You always did have a smart-ass mouth," he growled the rage boiling behind his blue eyes. "I think it's high time I did something about fixing it."

He lunged at her and she side-swiped him. He scrambled and caught her arm just as she headed toward the door. Despite being a meth addict, the bastard Kent was still very much a man and as a result, was bigger and stronger than she'd been at the time and easily tossed her toward her bed where he proceeded to pin her via her arms against the mattress.

Melissa struggled beneath the larger naked man's body but it was to no avail as she cringed when she felt him kiss her neck and thrust his wet cock along her belly when her shirt began to ride up. She wanted to vomit as the heat from her rage filled her and she wanted him dead at that very moment.

Kent's breath reeked of alcohol and he rubbed against her breasts with his free hand while pinning her wrists effortlessly with the other hand. He crushed his lips into hers and forced his tongue down her throat as tears began to stream down her supple pale cheeks.

"That limp dick boyfriend of yours don't know what to do with an unruly little bitch like you," he said teasing her. "But I do, you gonna learn, and you gonna learn real well what happens why you think too highly of yourself little girl," growled Kent. "Just like that stupid drugged-out bitch you call a mother."

"Get off me you disgusting bastard!" hissed Melissa as she continued to struggle beneath him.

Kent seemed to be amused for a time before he began to rip at her white and pink polka dot pajama bottoms and caused them to roll down her ankles. He got a firm grip on her cotton white panties and pulled them down as well despite her struggling and protest before he rather unceremoniously shoved his fingers inside her barely exposed pink folds causing her to gasp in shock and horror.

The bastard took her body's natural response to stimulate to mean that she'd been enjoying his twisted attempt to get her to allow him to do what he wanted to her but she glared at him and only increased her struggle. This made Kent all the more furious due to frustration and he removed his hand to slap her hard across the face resulting in her cheeks turning red and more tears coming down. She then proceeded to spit in his face and he hit her again this time rushing to part her legs in a bid to shove his even angrier cock inside her.

Before he could do so, Melissa wiggled free and saw her way to grabbing the alarm clock from the end table beside her. She'd been close enough to reach it and with all the strength she could muster, she gripped it and proceeded to smack the bastard across the face causing him to release her, his brief moment of focus slipped and she kneed him in the groin where it hurt the most before smacking him with the clock again and again before scrambling to get dressed and running out of the room and the house without a second thought.

In her mind's eye, she believed she'd seen a good deal of blood splatter when she struck the bastard with the clock. She had no idea if he'd been alive or dead following her departure but either way, she was determined never to have to endure his sickness ever again and resolved herself to get as far away from her so-called home as possible.

At the time she had been dating a boy from the football team, Zack Runnels. He was impressively tall, about six feet and two inches towering over many of his peers and her especially. Like her, he had clear blue eyes and unkempt dirty blond hair and was trying his best to grow facial hair which was little more than scruff that covered his decidedly long chin. He seemed to be quite invested in their time together, taking her on dates and pursuing her despite the numerous other girls that attempted to throw themselves at him.

For some reason, he'd set his sights on Misty, who at the time was still Melissa Davers, she'd been keeping to herself most of the time and didn't have many friends outside acquaintances when it came to her classes.

She recalled it being an extremely icy chill in the air that morning and she hadn't even had breakfast yet before she ended up rushing to Zack's place as fast as her weary legs could carry her. He greeted her warmly and took note of her tears before pulling her inside the house and wrapping his arms around her.

In those days he'd been the only good thing in her life and he managed to look out for her for three days without his parents being any the wiser about her staying with him.

Sadly like many good things in her life at that time, Zack Runnels didn't last either.

Misty blinked for a moment as the heaviness of the old memory was beginning to get the better of her. She had loved Zack and for a time he'd been the only person she'd ever loved and what he had done to her was the worst kind of betrayal on par with that of Kent's.

She took notice of the fact that she'd finally made it to the diner she had in mind when she awoke back at the motel and proceeded to enter it. Long gone were the days of being huddled in a corner as Kent ranted and raved in a drugged stupor as she was far from him and his twisted sickness.

Misty still had no idea whether or not he lived or died that day, but she was more inclined to hope that he'd finally met his just end given all that he'd done to her.