𝒯𝓇𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝓂𝑒

Prologue

The sound of policemen running after and following me, wasn't a situation I would have ever guessed myself to be in. But still here I was, I ran down the middle of the street, spotting a drain pipe I climbed on it until I had reached the rooftop. 

The police were a good amount of meters behind me, giving me enough time to climb onto the roof without them noticing. I sat down on the ground and took a few deep breaths, trying my best to calm my uneven breathing. 

Distantly, you could still hear the sound of police men calling my name, but I was too far into my thoughts to acknowledge them further. I laid down on the ground, a single tear slipping from my eye.

It all started about an hour ago, I was walking back from my shift at the nightclub. Reaching my apartment building, two police men were parked in front hastily stepped out of their car, looking at me with a sympathetic expression. 

They had told me to sit down and subtly explained that my mom had passed away, the building she worked at got blown up, and nobody survived. I felt terrible, and not because they told me she had passed away, but because my body didn't feel a sense of sadness. 

I hated that, instead of bursting out in tears, I almost felt a sense of relief wash over me, like I was slowly waking up from a nightmare. 

The police officers explained that they had been in contact with social services and that I was going to be taken with to the police station. I wanted to protest, I only had one known family member, and that was my aunt. 

She was a terrible person, a drug dealer, and had been suspected of murder. My mom didn't keep in contact with her unless she needed some drugs herself. My mom used to, however, send me off to her house when I was younger and was in the way. Being there, she would use me as a 'safety ticket' she called it. No dealer was going to murder someone in the presence of an eight-year-old. 

I remember me being terrified of the men coming into her house, they were always dressed in either suits or homeless clothes and would ask me inappropriate things. When I turned twelve she had told my mom that I was no use to her anymore and I haven't seen her since.

My second option would be to let my stepfather, John, adopt me. But I would rather live on the streets then being alone in a house with him. He was the person that made my life a living nightmare.

I grew up with only my mom, my dad leaving while my mom was pregnant with me. We didn't have a good relationship, in her eyes punishments were the only way to control your child, It used to be only an occasional slap or kick. 

When John came into the picture he made clear that he thought my punishments weren't harsh enough, and my mom, being madly in love with him, believed him. They grew more strict, every small thing, such as me not finishing cooking dinner in time, would earn me a punishment. 

The slapping, kicking and humiliating soon enough wasn't enough for them anymore, they started 'sharing' me with others. Lending me out to their friends to be used like a rag doll. When I turned thirteen was the first time john himself had become more 'intimate' with me. First it was just him, then his friends got their turns too. 

I fought back. I really tried, but eventually you'll come to the realization that acceptance is the quickest way to get it over with. When people say 'pain is mostly in your head' and 'If you give over it will hurt less' they were right, as soon as I started giving up and accepting my the bruises forming on my arms and legs and the blood that would stain the sheets, Life became a little more bearable.

I have always wondered what it would be like if I just went to live with someone else, I could file for child abuse, and they would bring me to a new place, although I don't think I will ever do that.

Despite the hate for my stepdad and my mom, I can't help myself but hoping that someday they would change. I know it sounds stupid, but at the end of the day my mom is still the only family I have left, and I know that if you're in the foster care system, you're all alone.

I did however try to contact my dad once, my biological one, I had found his number in my moms phone but as soon as I called the number my mom had caught me and deleted his number, she told me that he was a dangerous man and after that day, whenever I would ask about him, I got beaten until I passed out.

My birth certificate was changed when I was born, so according to the world, I didn't have a dad. Though I guess genetic tests could prove it.

The police led me to their car, and when they weren't looking, I ran. And that's everything until now. 

I swept the tears coming from my eyes away with my sleeves, I didn't know what to do anymore. I could leave the states, but It wouldn't matter If I were homeless here or somewhere else. 

I laid on the roof for some time, processing everything, thinking of a plan. Maybe I should try to find my father, I mean, he couldn't be worse than my parents now. I sat back up, I needed to get back to my mom's apartment to get my stuff, and hopefully some information.

I didn't take me long to walk back to the apartment and climb in through my bedroom window, that I kept open for emergencies. John wasn't going to be home for a few more hours, so I had some time to spare. 

Grabbing a backpack, I put the necessities in there, not that I had more than pajama's and a toothbrush anyway. 

When everything was packed, I walked into my mom's bedroom. I knew she held her letters and important things under her bed in a box, I had found it once when I was 6, But before I got to read them she came into the house.

It had unnecessary things in it, some bills, some passwords, until I reached a letter that had my official birth certificate on it. It was the letter confirming it was going to be changed, 

We wrote this letter to inform you that the father's name on the certificate will be changed from Roberto Alvarez to 'Medical procedure', meaning that if anyone were to ask, the child came from an unknown sperm donor. 

The letter was obviously not legal, she probably got it done by some shady man on a street corner. But this was proof, and It gave me a name. Roberto Alvarez. 

It probably wasn't enough information, but It was something, I could start from there. I quickly tucked the letter in my pocket and took out the emergency cash that was also in the box. 

I walked back out of the house and towards the park, The sun was starting to set, and I needed a place to stay the night, I knew that the park had

 I stupidly wandered through the streets trying to find shelter for the night since I really didn't have money for a hotel, I eventually found my way Into one of the food stands in the park, all the food had been taking out already, but it was a roof above my head.

I laid my backpack down as a pillow and sank my body towards the dirty wooden floor. I figured that I only had one option, finding my real dad.

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Hi love, sorry for the intense first chapter. I didn't want to start off too depressing, but this is important for the plot. The chapters will get lighter and more happy-ish, I promise.

Comments or feedback are highly appreciated, I can help me improve more as a writer, and It's just really motivating :)