My heart was pounding. I was sure I had seen the doorknob turn. What would I do? Before I even finished that very thought, I saw what I dread most, my mother. She wore an evil look on her face with an old green shirt that was full of holes. At that moment, I was wishing I had finished my chores. Now, I would pay for it.

My mother had a greasy pan in her hand. I thought being down in this basement for two days would have been enough punishment but apparently not. As she slowly struggled down the stairs, my heart pounded faster and faster. My bruises from last weekend were still tender. When she was on the fifth step from the bottom, she stumbled. I had never been so happy to see someone trip in my life.

As soon as she slammed on the ground, I was up on my feet sprinting for the stairs. She was right at the bottom of the stairs, so I would have to jump over her. When my feet were in the air, she grabbed one and brought me down. I knew if I gave up right now, I would have the worst beating of my life later.

My mother went to reach for the pan, and by that time, she was on her knees. While she was doing that, I took a run for it. She would never be able to catch me considering how big she was. This was my chance to get away.

When I hit the top of the stairs, there was my father. He stared at me, looked at my mother, and then he stared back at me. I had never seen such a horrible look from someone. I knew he was going to do something terrible to me. I was tired of getting beaten all the time. Before my father could speak one word, I lifted my fists and popped him in the face. It was the best feeling of my life. He was in such shock that I ran around him and ran right out the front door. When I got outside, I just ran. I had no idea where I was going, but anything would be better than there.