The low rumbling of thunder surrounds me, filling the silence as I pace back and forth along the railroad tracks. I pause, glancing up at a sky painted gray with clouds that threaten rain. Slightly, the corners of my lips turn up—the closest thing to a smile that I can muster in this dark mood that has been settling around me for the past twelve years of my life. I push those memories away as another roll of thunder shakes the sky. One by one rain drops fall, misting my face with their cool waters. I close my emerald eyes, wishing that this light rain would wash away the sticky threads of my past that were still clinging stubbornly to the recesses of my mind.

Wishful thinking. I sigh deeply and take a seat on one of the long metal rails, burying my face in my lap as I let the events of that morning wash over me. My father's booming voice echoes in my ears, his hand print still stinging my cheek. Sobs shake my shoulders and tears, mixed with the rain, drench my face. My stomach clenches as I think about what's waiting for me at home.

I often find myself pacing these abandoned tracks, escaping the anger and abuse that I endure each and every day.My father is a very hateful man with a mean temper and a fierce punch.Add being an alcoholic to the above and you get a childhood filled with hiding bruises and making excuses.Actually, my childhood ended right about the time I turned six, when my mother's body was found in a pool of blood, lying on our bathroom floor. Suicide.

Now, at the age of seventeen, I live in a broken home with the man responsible for pushing my mother to the edge.

A flash of lightning strikes the sky as the rain falls harder, pulling me out of my thoughts. Although I'm terrified at the thought of returning home, I know that I can't stay on the tracks through this storm. I tuck a wet strand of blonde hair behind my ear and stand up, wrapping my sweatshirt tightly around myself as I begin the long walk home.

After walking a few blocks a tingling sensation begins to irritate the back of my neck—a feeling that makes me paranoid. I continue walking, trying to push aside the eerie feeling of being watched. However, as I walk the sensation grows to the point where I'm convinced that I hear footsteps splashing behind me.

No longer able to ignore the feelings, I turn around.

"Who's there?" I pause briefly, waiting for a response. My green eyes search the street anxiously. Nothing.

Another crash of thunder warns me and I begin to run, in a rush to escape being followed, yet in no hurry for my punishment awaiting me.

Hesitantly, I walk inside, shutting the door quietly behind me. I lean against the door and wait, listening. Listening for any sign telling me my dad was home. Any sign telling me how severe my punishment would be.

Everything was silent, with the exception of the storm picking up outside. Cautiously, I move away from the door and make my way upstairs, closing myself in my room. I strip from my damp clothes, throwing on an old t-shirt and a pair of shorts, and lay on top of my bed. As I stare at my ceiling, I use the rhythmical pounding of the rain to ease my unsteady heartbeat. I focus all of my energy into staying composed.

Finally I let the events of this morning play over in my head.

Oversleeping. Oversleeping twenty minutes was the mistake that I made this time, landing a bruise on my cheek. In the twenty minutes that I was sleeping, I could have had his breakfast made and the laundry started. Retaliation and running off would be my next two mistakes; landing me God knows what injuries when my father comes home.

"Kyra!" His voice sends icy chills down my spine. My heartbeat picks up two speeds, pounding in rhythm with his footsteps coming up the stairs. In rhythm with the hits I was about to receive.

Running off on him was a big mistake.

My door flies open and I jump up. He stands there, red faced, glaring at me through hateful eyes. Even though I hate to admit it...I'm scared.