Music Box-Part I

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My bare feet whispered across the hardwood floors. If he caught me sneaking out, oh the things he would do to me. He wants to keep me for his own and never let anyone else have me.
The last one left him through death, suicide to be exact. It tore him apart, at least what little was left of him. I need to get away.
Alex, he'll understand. He'll help me, yeah, he'll help.
I quicken my pace along the sidewalk outside as I see the light in the kitchen turn on. Shit. I was not expecting him awake this early.
My speedwalk turns into a full on sprint, my bare feet slapping the cold concrete and stinging a little. The pain is quickly deadened by adrenaline as I hear his heavy combat boots making sharp cracking noises as they hit they concrete.
No, nonono.
This isn't supposed to happen.
I stumble, nearly tripping as I sprint across the usually busy street across from his house. A car flashes past behind me and his pissed off shout echoes, spurring me onwards.
I head for Alex's house, sprinting towards the drainpipe that leads up to his balcony. My freezing, bloodied feet cling to the metal, my body working like a spider's as I climb.
I launch myself over the balcony railing, and the thump draws him from his sleep and to the balcony. He sees me, barefoot and wearing just the thin shorts I'm made to sleep in by him, and he pulls me inside.
He crawls over the balcony a moment later, as Alex pulls me underneath his bed. His nimble fingers unlatch the collar on my throat, tossing it across the room, even though I hadn't told him about the tracker embedded in it.
I listen to Alex's soft breaths, and jolt as his loud swearing fills the house. He gives up after a moment, when Alex's father chases him out.
Alex crawls out from under the bed, handing me a shirt from his closet once I crawl timidly out into the room. It's so embarrassing to be in just my shorts and his shirt, especially in front of the boy I like.
"Hah. I'm guessing you're his new plaything, and you ran away, expecting me to help you."
I nod as I lay down, sinking into his matress. It's cheap and uncomfortable, but it's so much more than sleeping on the cold floor that I can't help but let out a soft sigh.
"I'll take care of you, dorogaya."
I don't quite understand what he said, but I get the feeling it's Russian for darling.

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