DANCING AT MY FUNERAL - An Adopted by Yungblud Story (Book Two)

CHAPTER ONE: RUNNING

TRIGGER WARNING - THIS CHAPTER WILL CONTAIN: ABUSE

THE ENTIRETY OF THIS CHAPTER WILL BE IN THE READER'S POINT OF VIEW.

and so it begins.

enjoy. <3

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My lungs are on fire as I sprint down the street, my chest heaving. It's absolutely pouring out; the raindrops feel more like tiny, sharp points of ice as they pelt my skin. It's freezing; makes sense, considering that it's the middle of February. This is now my eighth attempt at escaping my parents. My eighth failed attempt at escaping my parents, I should say. I can hear my dad's car revving behind me, getting closer with each passing second. I run faster, my breaths getting heavier. I see his car pull right next to me, just driving along with my sprinting. Fuck. I keep running, seeing an opportunity up ahead to hide. I'm trying something new; this street is a dead end that ends where a huge patch of woods begins. My dad's gonna have to follow me on foot if he wants to catch me and he isn't exactly the fastest runner.

I dash into the woods, swerving around trees. It's dark out and I'm wearing all black, too, making it nearly impossible for my old man to be able to even see me. I duck behind some bushes, out of sight of my enraged father. I wait until he's deep enough into the woods where he's still at a distance but could now easily get lost before setting the second step of my little experimental plan into action. With whatever strength I can muster up, I grab a decently large piece of a branch and throw it off to the left. It lands with a thud, catching my dad's attention. I throw another branch piece, aiming for it to land slightly behind the other one. The second thud is enough to send my dad sprinting in that direction, thinking it's me. Hell yes. I quickly begin to slink away in the opposite direction. I find my way out of the woods immediately. I catch sight of my mom sitting in the passenger seat of my dad's car, smiling sweetly. Fuck. Fail number eight.

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I limp my way up the stairs, my entire body aching the entire way. As I expected, my parents did not enjoy my little stunt. I take out the first aid kit that I have stowed away in my closet, patching myself up. Dom sends me a new one once every two weeks. This one is brand new. It just got here yesterday; my parents weren't home when it arrived, thank fuck. Dom always sends me a letter with each of the kits. However, it seems this one came with more. As I pull the brand new first aid kit out of the box, I find a smaller box along with my expected letter on top of it. I take all of the contents of the box out, curious as to what was in the new, smaller box. I decide to open the letter first.

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n/n,

hi, love. i hope you're still holding up over there. i know you can't respond to these, but i really wish you could. we all still miss you over here, miss the vibe you brought into the place. i go into your room a lot, make sure nothings getting too dusty. i hope the first aid kits are doing you well, too. this one's really hurting to write. also, this isn't the only thing in the envelope. felt like making this delivery a bit nicer than the others. i love and miss you so, so much. we're gonna have to make sure you get back here before your birthday; im still pissed that my schedule got filled by fuckin interviews on your birthday this past december. i still feel bad about that. anyways, keep opening everything else in here and keep holding on, okay? i love you.