The Damaged Stowaway_(0)

Lily slowly wandered down the backstreets of a nowhere town. The sort of town that had no lights even on the main strip, let alone the dirt tracks that snaked between farms. She’d be scared if she wasn’t still angry. Her father had yelled too much, pushed too hard. She was done with him. No more ”I’m sorry babygirl”, or “It’s just that you remind me of your mother baby”, his pathetic attempts to apologise after an outburst.

He’d raised his hand to her as they were driving. On another lost cause, driving through nothing to a new lost town. Father had burnt all his bridges in the previous one, and the one before that, and the one before that. She’d pipped up, complained at how they were running away again. It’d made him mad, his temper was short.

‘Fuck!’ She cried out into the dark. Kicking debry off the road and into the surrounding woods. Her feet were sore from walking, her knees, hands and elbows scraped up red raw from her fall. She’d bailed out of the car, not waiting for her father to stop. Her chest ached, her head pounded. Abandoned and hopeless, she was not even out of her teens.

‘Fuck him’ She muttered angrily. Glaring into the darkness ahead. Her face still stung from where he hit her, her arm aching and bruised from where he grabbed hold. She clutched her jacket close as the cold breeze picked up. She only had what she was wearing, plus a small backpack of useless bits and pieces. She hadn’t intended to run away, or even, take a bail out leap from a moving car. She’d just reached her breaking point. Her father didn’t even bother to turn around for her. His tail lights were already dim in the distance as she picked herself off the ground.

Now, as her fury settled, she began to feel the cold night. The trees groaning under their weight, the wind rustling through, tangling her long auburn hair. She was nowhere, lost in the dark, with nothing. Lily began to cry as she walked, she felt hopeless and pathetic. Eighteen and abandoned, damaged goods already. She didn’t know where to go, or what to do, as she stumbled along the tracks in the dark.

Her father has despised her. She looked like her mother, she’d seen photos. Beautiful long locks, bright green eyes, a splash of freckles across her rosey cheeks. Her figure too, small and delicate, with tight perky breasts and a firm ass. She was only 18, still growing really. But that didn’t make her father stop, he spat insults and hurled abuse. Only to try sweet talk her a few minutes later. As if all his ‘I’m sorry pet’ and baby talk would heal her. That was her life.

Aching, tired and lonely, Lily longed for a rest. She considered just giving up and collapsing on the side of the road. But she didn’t want to be picked up by strangers. So she wandered on until she spotted a barn from the road. It was old, but looked safe enough. No lights nearby, and and old tractor out the front. She hurried inside, grateful for coverage from the wind. In moments of settling on the ground, curled up in discarded hay, she was asleep.

***

‘Hm, what is this? A stowaway?’ A gruff voice woke her up suddenly. In panic, she clutched her bag and shielded her face, scarmbling in fear. Her heart pounded in her ears as her stomach twisted in fear.

‘Now when I came to get some tools here.. I don’t remember leaving a girl’. The man continued, but, with no harshness in his deep voice. Lily peaked from behind her bag, staring up at the man.

He was a tall, hulking figure. A full beard, rough hands and dark eyes. The flannel shirt he wore taught against his muscles, his boots dirty and worn. He was easily two, three times her size. His shadow seemed to tower over her small frame, curled on the ground. He was older too, 45? 50? It was hard to tell with his sun worn skin and peppered beard.

‘Please, please I’ll leave. I didn’t steal.. I didn’t break anything’ She blurted out, trembling in her voice.