Cold-Hearted {open}

The air was bitterly cold, but that didn't stop me from leaving my house and running as far as I possibly could away from it. I don't know how long or how far I had ran, but I finally decided to stop. The tears were streaming down my face, and my right eye was burning. "Thanks, dad..." I whisper to myself. I sit in the snow along the shoreline and continue crying. I rip a piece of my undershirt off and put a handful of snow in it. I slowly but firmly place it against my right eye. My father hit me again. It wasn't unusual for this to happen, but I got sick of it. So I ran away. I knew that if I went back he'd hurt me even more for leaving, so I was determined to never return. I could even be homeless for a while. Maybe even get a job and buy myself a house. I'm not sure what I plan to do just yet, but I'll have to figure that out soon. For right now I have to focus on where I'm going to sleep tonight. It is below freezing outside, and still dropping. The snow has stopped, but not before dropping a three foot layer of it all over the district. I'll have to find somewhere to go. For some reason I'm not sure of, I remain sitting on the shore. My tears have practically frozen to my face. The anger towards my father has been rising since I was eleven, and I can't hold it in anymore. "I HATE YOU!" I scream. I don't care if people hear me. It's in the middle of the night anyways. No one's going to be outside. No one will want to come find me in the freezing cold. Even if they did, maybe they'd take me to prison or something. At least it'd be warm there....