[fancypost bgcolor= #77948D; bordercolor= transparent; borderwidth= 0px; border-radius: 35px; border-top: 5px dashed black; border-left: 5px dashed black; border-bottom: 5px dashed black; border-right: 5px dashed black; border-radius: 150px 30px 150px 30px; width: 550; height: auto;][align=center][size=28pt]Jake[/size]
[justify]Running... Heart pounding...
Each step I took carried me further away from the damned place I'd ever called home. My pain and rage driving me as faraway from this place as I could possibly get. The bruises on my ribcage throbbed, an excruciating pain that made me want to barf. I kept going. Now I wasn't even paying attention to where I was headed, my feet knew these streets all too well and I was confident that there was no need in worrying about getting hit by a car. No one drove around this late, at least not here. The constant pounding of my feet against pavement became a rhythm to my ears, a rhythm that I was familiar with. This wasn't the first time this had happened to me.
My dad had come home drunk tonight. He stumbled through the front door to find me sitting on the couch. It was well past 2:00 in the morning and he smelt strongly of booze. I watched him as he came in, he had that look in his eyes, that look that said he was way too drunk, so drunk that the abusive side was brought out in him. He dragged himself across the room, using things around him to maintain balance. It wasn't long until he stood over me, looking down at me with a look of disgust. Within the next five minutes we were both throwing punches, it's hard to say who started it; sometimes it's me, most of the time it's him. About an hour or two after the fight started he fell over and passed out on the living room rug. I grabbed the blanket off the couch and covered him with it before running up to my room and packing my backpack. I stole a last glance at the house before opening the front door, noticing all the things my dad and I had broke during our brawl. Tonight I was leaving and I wasn't coming back.
My name is Jake Nathaniel Payne. I'm eighteen and on the run. Most people say I'm cocky, self centered, and a player. I'm often seen sleeping at a different girl's house every night, it's a rarity that I'll be seen with the same girl more than once. As far as sexual orientation goes... Dude, I'm straight. My hair is black, my eyes are blue, and I'm skinny for my age; most of my weight is from my muscle. I'm six feet tall. My favorite color is red. Bad habits? I don't have any... Well, I guess if I had to name one it'd probably be that I'm a player, however, I'm not the slightest bit ashamed. I don't have any siblings.
When I was fifteen my mom died in a car accident and after that everything in my life went wack. My dad started drinking everyday after my mom died and I knew that he would be considered an alcoholic. We have been getting into full blown fist fights at least three times a week for two years now. Two weeks ago I left the house and ran, I haven't returned since, I don't plan to.[/justify]
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