Teen - New Adult Fiction
Description
Vocal Characteristics
Language
EnglishVoice Age
Teen (13-17)Accents
North American (General) North American (US General American - GenAM)Transcript
Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
prologue. Pack some jeans, a few shirts and some socks. That's it. That's all I o u my dad through my backpack at me and stormed out of my room. I stood there in shock for a few seconds before springing into action. Rushing to my closet, I packed, but he told me to take afraid of what would happen if I tried to take more. I couldn't predict what was going to happen to me tonight, and I wasn't sure I'd get a chance to come back to this house any time soon. Opening the little wooden box hidden in the top of my closet, I took the small lot of cash that was in it. Hoping it was enough. I quickly stuffed it in my backpack but thought better of it and stashed it in my sock. Stepping out into the hall and closing the door to my bedroom, I turned and noticed my sister peeking at me through the crack of her door. It's okay, Chloe, don't worry, I tried to reassure her. She nodded at me as her eyes filled with tears and her lip trembled, turning away. I walked down the hall to where my dad was waiting at the front door. I didn't see my mom at all, and I still didn't want to believe what was happening. Come on, was all my dad said as he went through the front door out to his truck. Where are we going? I asked him while climbing into the passenger's seat and buckling my seatbelt, but he didn't answer, just backed out of the driveway and started driving. We stayed on Interstate 80 headed for Sacramento. As we exited at Watt Avenue, I realized I had no idea where we were. I've never been to this area before, but I'd heard other kids at school talk about it like it was a rough part of town. Where are you taking me, Dad? I tried again with a quiver in my voice that betrayed my fear. But again, he didn't answer me. He drove through a few traffic lights before pulling into a parking lot. There was a dollar tree, a bank and what looked like it used to be a Kmart that was no longer in business. He drove around to the back of one of the buildings and stopped the truck. This is where you get out. He didn't look at me. Just sat there looking straight ahead through the windshield. What do you mean? Panic gripped me. He couldn't really mean that. I mean, get out. He glared over at me. And the look of disgust on his face made everything clear. I was now on my own on the street, opening the door. I stepped out and as soon as both my feet hit the pavement, he gunned to the engine and drove off the door, slamming shut from the force of it. He never once gave me a second glance.