Decisions (GMD3/District3 fanfic)

I cautiously made my way over to the door that I heard shouting from before gingerly opening it. Stood there were my parents. My mum and my dad. My mum had a tearstained face, looking frightened. Pale. Whereas my dad...he was as drunk as ever. Angry as well. But I'm used to it now. It's nothing new. It's been happening ever since I was 4. 

"Get out of here, Ariana!" my father yelled, his face boiling. I hadn't even said anything yet. 

"But I don't want anymore fighti-" I started but I stopped as my dad neared me whilst sending daggers from his eyes, at me. 

Next thing I knew, a fist had collided with my face, so much force and anger was put inti it causing me to fall back, onto the floor. A tear escaped my eye as I stared at the alcoholic I called dad. I looked over at my mum for help, but she didn't seem to care anymore.  

I wiped the blood dripping from my nose and stood up, keeping my gaze fixed onto the ground. I didn't dare to look up at the people in front of me. I was too scared. 

I walked out of the room and my dad slammed his bedroom door shut behind me, which was quickly followed by more shouting. 

I hurried into my room, closing my door, then sitting with my back against the door. Tears fell rapidly from my eyes as I began thinking about the other things that had happened in this hell life of mine. My dad killing my youngest and only brother being one of them. I couldn't report that though. I wasn't allowed. The only other person that knows is my best fried. Micky his name is. Michael Parsons to be precise. I smiled at the thought of him. He was so caring...the only person I trusted with my life. 

I pulled down my sleeve before wiping my wet face with it. 'I need to runaway...' I thought to myself. 

I smiled at the idea, like I have about a million times, but frowned as I reminded myself of how much trouble I would get into. Will they even notice I'm gone? Would they care? 

Ignoring all the questions jammed in my head, I got up from the floor, my back aching a bit because of it leaning against the door. 

I grabbed my phone from my old and half broke desk, and texted Micky. 

'To Micky: Can I stay with you? X' 

As I waited for a reply, I got out a suitcase I hid under my bed. Micky bought it for me. He's been begging me to runaway and get away from the hell I'm living. He always said 'take my hand and runaway with me' but I always refused, scared of what might happen. So he bought me a suitcase and said if I ever decide to runaway, use this. 

I never had my own suitcase as my dad never took me to any places around the world, there basically isn't a reason for us to have one. 

I unzipped and stuffed a few clothes in there but got interrupted by my phone. He replied. 

'from Micky: Decided to runaway? xx' I smiled and wrote back. 

'To Micky: yes :) xx'