False Trust

Today I was finally going to leave this hell hole. This horrid place. With my drunken mother and abusive father, I turned 18 today. I could legally drive, which was good enough for me. I packed up all of my band shirts, and all of my skinny jeans and shoes, and stuffed them all into my extremely over sized purse. I was ready, fuck my makeup, fuck my hair shit, that doesn't matter, as long as I have my money, my phone, my car keys, and my purse with all of my stuff in it. I could go now, it was time. I crept down the hall to check to see if my mom was passed out yet. She was, and it was only noon. It was always like this, ridiculous.
I rushed back to my room and grabbed my purse and my keys, time to go. The only reason I had a car was because my mom needed me to run errands for her, she didn't want me to use her car, so they got me a car. Now, don't get me wrong, we aren't poor, at all. We are rich, very rich. But between the abuse, and my younger sisters death and it all being blamed on me, I can't handle it at all. My sister died, 8 years ago when I was 10. My mother was having one of her business parties, and my little sister was on the counter, and she fell off. My parents say I pushed her, but I wasn't even at home, I was at my grandparents. And every day after my sister’s death, I have been beaten senseless, I was raped daily, my mother threw vodka bottles at me, she flicked her cigarette ashes on me, she put the cigarette out on me. It was time to go.
I got into my car, a little nervous, I couldn't believe I was really doing this, I was leaving. I had $6,000, I'd been saving up for years, I would keep my mom’s alcohol change, I would keep her cigarette change, any money I found around the house was mine, and once a month my parents would give me $500, to pay for gas and such, and I would fill up and then save the rest, I never bought anything for myself unless it was a new album or a new shirt, or paying bills of mine. I put in the new Memphis May Fire album, and began jamming out. I was so excited, I was obviously not paying attention to the road, because the next thing I noticed was my head slinging forward.
"Shit." I mumbled rubbing the back of my head.
"What the hell?!" I hear a man shouting, then see him running to my car. I knew this face oh my god.
"What the hell lady?!" He shouts at me.
"I'm so sorry, I was trying to get away from this hell hole I've been forced to call home for 16 years. It's time to get away, I was ready, I have all of my things in my bag and I'm leaving and I was jamming out to Memphis May Fire and I'm so sorry I was not paying attention. Oh my god I'm so sorry." I said in only 1 breath, once I finished I was gasping for air.
"Hell hole?" He asked looking at me confused.
He was not dumb, I know he wasn't. I knew him. Austin Carlile. The singer for the band Of Mice & Men. My inspiration. He was the reason I was alive.
"Molestation, abuse, drunken mother. You know the gist of it."
"Oh I do?"
"Yes you do, I'm not stupid, I know who you are. Now please get in and let me take you to where you were trying to go. It's the least I can do since I ran into the back of your fucking car."
He got in and I had ended up spilling my guts to him, unknowingly taking him two hours away, to a small town outside of Los Angeles He had cried, we stopped once to pee an hour into our trip, and then he spilt his guts to me, I had cried. He lost his mom so young, I hate my parents, but I would go crazy if I lost them.
"Well sweetheart, we're here." He said whipping a tear from his face.
"Oh, well. It was nice to get to meet you. You keep your head up high." I said with a weakly smile.
"No, you come on too."
I was confused, and not sure what to say, "Huh?"
"Come on, you obviously need a place to sleep tonight. It's the least I could do."
"Oh, no please. I'd be a burden. I can't. I don't want to get in the way."
"You won't be. Please, you drove me over two hours."
"But I wrecked into your car."
"Well you were jamming out to a kick ass album. So I forgive you."
"Ugh, Austin please. I will not stay with you. I don't want to sleep in your bed, I'd be taking up your space." Which was a lie, I don't care, he smelt amazing, I would love to share a bed with him, I would also love to sleep in his bed, with him, I mean hell, it's Austin fucking Carlile.
"You won't, I'll sleep on the couch, you look like you haven't slept in 18 years. Please Scarlet."
"You will sleep in your own bed, I will sleep on the couch. And that's the only way I will stay here."
He let out a sigh and agreed.

Notes

First story and first chapter c:
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