Breathe in.

And out.

And in.

And out.

I pace around my front door, trying to steel myself to walk in.

And in.

Maybe no one's home?

Well, I can't stand here forever, and with extreme trepidation guiding my ever so stiff movements, I push on the door handle, padding in silently. They never lock it, and in any case, what's there to steal?

The place is deadly silent, reeking of cigarette smoke. But it's quiet, which is safer.

And out.

People say that houses smell unique, complementary to their owner. Well, my house smells nauseatingly of cigarettes and marijuana. I can't say I'm innocent in contributing to that smell. It's easier, giving in to the depressants and hallucinogens for a little bit of time, to make things slightly more bearable.

Ah well.

Moving as swiftly as I can, I make a beeline for my room door, hoping to get there before anyone sees me. More specifically, Tony.

"Ashley."

I freeze in my place.

"Turn around Ashley, I'm talking to you."

Ever so slowly, I pivot around to lock eyes with my mother. My voice barely above a whisper, I acknowledge her, "hi mum."

She glares at me, her eyes bloodshot and her nose running. She's not got a cold though. "You lazy, disloyal girl. Where do you think you're running off to without even giving your mum a kiss on the cheek?" She stands there impatiently, hands on her hips, wearing her faded pink slippers and dirty bathrobe. She never used to look this haggard before my dad and her split. For some reason she feels like she's 'never been better,' the woman looks like a goddamn raccoon.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" She glares at me expectantly. Concealing a sigh, I shuffle over to her and hesitantly places a light kiss on her cheek.

She looks at me, smiling with her yellowing teeth, and pats my cheek, "good girl, now go do the dishes, you weren't here to do them last night, now were you?"

I nod silently and get to it, rolling my hoodie sleeves up and washing them as rapidly and quickly as I could, eager to lock myself in my room just down the hall from me. Mum and Tony live upstairs, and frankly I'm quite glad they do. I don't want to hear what they do in the middle of the night, which generally entails more substance abuse than much else.

Finishing up, I dry my hands quickly and turn around to see that mum has disappeared from her position behind me as overseer, probably going back to her room to sleep. I sigh with relief, now I can simply remain in solitude. I make towards my room, still very much on edge and unwilling to relax until safely enclosed in the vicinity of it.

I managed to make it halfway there before a firmer, rough grip held my forearm in place. I grimace, not needing to even turn around. That hand's done the exact same gesture too many times to count. Every time it performed that action, I knew things weren't going to end well.

"Well, look here, someone finally decided to return to the den. Naturally your uncultured, unmannered self left the door wide open to announce your presence to daddy dearest returning home, innit?" I turn around to see his orb like eyes smiling at me. "Isn't that right, honey?" He grins at me, and I fight the urge to recoil in disgust. It's easier to just to not aggravate him.

And then I realised he had gone out. The guy doesn't have a job, he's a drug dealer- or something- for crying out loud. I stay holed up in my room for the most part, I don't particularly get involved in the specifics of whatever's going on in this semblance of a home.

Yeah, my mum's got fine taste when it comes to rebounds. What was it she had even said when I had confronted her about this blasphemy of a relationship?

"Love, he just... takes the edge off."

If only I had understood she meant that's literally and not figuratively when I said that.

This guy, I stop myself from screaming in anger. This guy, he's not even worthy enough to be called a snake. He's more of a leech: survives on your suffering, easily squash-able but can kill you, and ugly as fuck.

I blink as he snaps his fingers in front of my face, releasing his grip on my forearm to do that, as his other hand is holding a Jack Daniel's.

I grimace as his breath wafts into my face, curtesy if him leaning in closer to me, he smiles, "so, baby girl, mama asleep?"

I lean backwards, ew. Give me a minute, I need to push down the bile rising in my throat.

Then he decides to invade my personal space once more, leaning forwards, aiming for my face.

Instinctively I push him away, revolted.

In reaction, he raises the quarter full Jack Daniel's and swings it down over my head, and I raise my arms to shield my head.

It crashes down on my exposed forearms and I stop myself from howling in pain as I feel the glass breaking in my skin and alcohol manoeuvring their way into the cuts.

I look up to Tony and he stares back, devoid of any guilt but filled to the brim with his sadistic amusement.

He tries approaching me again but this time I drive my knee home, pushing him to ground. I then stomp on his stomach before running into my room and locking the door.

Barricading it with my wardrobe dresser, I look at my arms and cringe. This does not look good. And I can hardly see what it even looks like thanks to the red liquid coating my arms.

That's when I decide.

I grab my huge hiking bag out of the corner it's been ever since I moved in here and open all my drawers. Emptying most of its contents into my bag, I jump when pounding on the door reverberates through my room.

"Ashley, open this door at once!" His muffles voice shouts, and I whimper from the pain.

I continue on, moving to stuff my three pairs of shoes in it and any other thing I use in this room. Which isn't much, considering I don't really own anything.

I then move to the en suite, grateful for it, and grab any necessities from there too.

With all this, my bags only three quarters full.

Scrambling across the floor, leaving trails of blood everywhere, I push away the filthy rug thrown on my floor, and pry open the weak floorboard.

Underneath, my laptop and chargers, I had scraped together money- as well as stole money lying around of Tony's to buy it. He had wondered what had become of his money but brushed it off after his next hit.

Naturally if I had left it lying about, I would have literally gotten a beating for buying such a luxury, and it would've been confiscated from me.

Stuffing that into my bag, I close everything, and grab my coat from it's hanger in the wall. I didn't take it yesterday because it wasn't cold by my standards, but I've spent today freezing.

I've got everything ready in less than five minutes.

I call Rita, desperate to get to her house. She answers on the third ring and immediately agrees when I ask whether I could stay over. I sigh in relief after that twenty second call; at least I have somewhere to go.

Donning the coat, I hike the bag onto my back, realising it's virtually half my height. I open my window and hoist myself through it, tumbling onto the wet- barely there- grass outside.

Grateful the dimwit banging at my door is too hammered to realise I could leave the room, I stumble along the side of my house leaving bloody handprints on the wall as I try supporting myself, and my bag.

Don't you think you're making this look like too much of a murder scene?

Shut up.

Seeing my slightly rusted and unused bike, I mount it.

Exiting my sham of a house I cycle to the left, going to Rita's house. She lives ten minutes away from me, by walking.

I get there in five.

Dropping my bike, I almost trip over myself in my haste to get inside her house, and walk in through the front door.

That's when I hear her mum speaking in the living room adjacent to the entrance.

"Rita, you know I like Ashley, I really do, but we can't constantly be having her over like this."

"But mum she has nowhere-"

"Look, your dad's parents are coming over tonight, we don't have any space for her. As for all her problems, that's a matter for the authorities; we could get into trouble with her actual guardians if we keep on helping her out."

I fall backwards, getting increasingly dizzy. Steadying myself on the doorframe, I knock over something; I'm unable to distinguish what though. The noise startles the two women in the living room, and they come rushing to the main entrance.

Meanwhile, I've continued falling backwards, trying to head back to my bicycle. I roll over once or twice, taking my bag with me before reaching it and clinging onto it again.

"Ashley, no, come back!" Rita shouts, seeing the blood and trying to get to me.

Meanwhile her mother stands there, her face the epitome of horror. Her hands are over her mouth and eyes wide, while shaking her head. Was that guilt I see in her expression?

But by the time Rita reaches me I've already started going again, pedalling as fast as I can, holding back those burning tears of rejection.

It's less than another five minutes before I find myself following the route to his house.

How I remember how to get there at this point in time is beyond me. Riding down a street of all seemingly identical houses, I stop in front of the one with the infamous Lamborghini parked in front of it.

Dropping my bike once again, I begin attempting to move to Ethan's house steps. However my legs seem to have another plan, and collapse from under me, causing me to stumble into the Lamborghini, starting its alarm. 

Dropping my bag, I try leaning against the car for support, but instead collapse onto the pavement.

Lying there, essentially paralysed, I hear a door open, and with blurry vision look up to see Ethan.

I try to say 'I'm fine,' however all the emanates from my mouth is a pathetic, faint gasp.

And that's when everything when black.