Freedom

Chapter One: Escaping

Hey! So this is my new story! Please give it a change and check it out.

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the originalplot of this story. Maximum and the other characters in the Maximum Ride series are the "property" of James Patterson. This is the first and only time that I will state this.

Enjoy and review!

The waiting was killing me. I think those were the longest five minutes of my life. Those minutes made the difference between life and death, between me having a small creature growing inside my womb or not. They were crucial.

The first of the two tests started beeping, telling me my results were ready.

Pregnant or not pregnant? Pregnant or not pregnant? The tests would tell.

I grabbed the little white stick-eyes closed. I counted to three and opened my eyes.

Two lines. Did that mean that I was pregnant or not? I looked at the instructions in the box.

Oh, no. That meant I-

Another beep broke into my thoughts. Although both of the pregnancy tests were different brands, they announced the same news: I was pregnant. Oh my. But I was barely an almost fifteen year old.

***Remembering***

I'd woken up this morning, earlier than usual. I'd been planning this day for a couple of weeks now. I'd gone over my plan over and over, making every little detail of the plan perfect . I had been so hyper, full of energy and restless.

I glanced down at my naked body and then looked at my sleeping father in disgust. How could a man take advantage of his own daughter this way? I would probably never be able to understand him or his actions.

I got up from the bed quietly. It was five thirty in the morning and who knows what he'll do if he gets woken up before the time he set up the alarm for. I made my way out of "our" room and was on the way into "my" room. You're probably wondering why I have the quotation marks on "our" and "my." Well, let me tell you. My father makes me sleep in his master bedroom, every single night. So he says that it's "our" room as if we were married, which after you get used to hearing it so much, isn't really such a big deal anymore. "My" room is the room I have my clothes and other things in. It's not really "mine" since I don't go in there too often. When I'm not in bed with my father, I always have to do something else. It's always something, either doing the laundry, mopping the floor, making his dinner and overall being his own personal slave and maid of the house.

I hate my life. There isn't brake from it. Ever. My father, Jeb, doesn't let me get out of the house unless it's to go in to our backyard. I don't go to school like normal kids would. Any kid my age would complain about school, but I wish I was lucky enough to be able to go to school. Jeb keeps me away from everything a normal teenage girl like me would do.

I've never entered high school. I never got the joy of having friends to share things with or someone to listen to me, much less a crush or a boyfriend. Other girls do a lot of things I've never been able to do. I've never worn make up or whatever I wanted, like skirts and dresses. I've always been one of those girls that are laid back and never really cared about what they're wearing, but I would at least like to have the choice.

I turned the light switch on in my room and glanced around.

The room looked lived in. The covers and the sheets at the bed were pulled back and some of the blankets were on the floor. A book was opened, facing down in the desk. There were papers around and a really old laptop. There were other things like a chair and a lamp and other crap I didn't use.

I locked the door-I know, the only person in the house had already seen me countless time naked, so why lock the door? I have my reasons.

I searched for some clothes. When I was dressed, I started putting my plan in action.

I made the bed, straightening everything out. I looked out of my small, small window. It was a gloomy day, like always. I would be really surprised if it turned out to be a sunny day.

I checked all my clothes. It was hard to decide what to take and what to leave behind. I had so much clothes, but, at the end, I took the less used ones and the ones I could definitely not leave behind. I folded them up and put them in a place in the back of my closet. I went over the mental list of the things I had. I hadn't used my laptop in a long time. I powered it up. I went to Word and wrote the list out (I didn't want to forget anything).

I went to the kitchen and started up breakfast on the kitchen. I'd been a horrible cook before, but Jeb decided this year that he wanted to take my maiden-ness to another level. Thank goodness I have he taught me how to cook and gave me the other chores to do, I would go crazy if I didn't have them. Not to mention starve.

I felt hands touching my butt through my sweatpants, his breath over my neck and the hands shifted all over my body. Again, it was something that was disgusting, but I'd gotten used to it. Jeb started sucking my neck. He turned me around to get a shot at my mouth.

I had gotten a head start on my chores, so I was two-thirds done with them by the time I was completely sure he wasn't going to return home. I'd gone to the pharmacy store and gotten the two tests that had just been ... tested.

After I stopped my mental freak out (for now, anyways), I continued my plan and acted like a good girl around Jeb.

I won't tell you all the details, I would probably corrupt your little, innocent mind. Let's just say that Jeb was very impressed with the dinner I made, I slipped something in his drink that made him a bit loopy and waited for the right time to give him a shot that made him "go" to sleep for twelve hours or more.

Where did you get the shot? you may ask. Well, I forgot to mention that Jeb, my father, is an evil scientist. He's job is in a lab and he has his own miniature lab in the basement, which is supposed to be locked up, but I got a way in and stole the serum. Before he decided to ... um, corrupt my innocence, he'd spent most of his time down there. Not so much anymore.

I packed up my things quickly into a backpack and two medium suitcases. They were kind of heavy but I was strong and if that was one of the things that would lead me to freedom, I would snatch it up along with the rest of it. As I packed my bags, I thought about what I was doing. This wasn't just about me anymore, now not only I was at risk of getting caught and getting a painful punishment, but I was also putting a baby through whatever I was about to do.

That was a very rare possibility. I wasn't seen outside-as, if, ever. Talk about claustrophobic, (that's another thing that made me want to escape). The neighbors weren't going to notice anything, since they pretty much kept to their own.

Anyways, back to me. I was almost fifteen and I was pregnant with my half brother or sister. Do you know how weird that sounds and feels, especially when it's just you that knows it. It's killing me. I really wished I now had, like, a fairy godmother or at least a friend or someone to be close to and to be able to know everything about me. Someone to share the burden with.

I now had everything I needed to make this trip. I had stolen tons of cash and stolen Jeb's main source of cash: his credit card. I knew his password. I would take all the money there was in there. I may not have taken eighth or ninth grade, but I'm not dumb. I know that the police can actually track you down whenever you use a credit card, so I'll use it before I leave town and get rid of it.

I glanced at myself in the bathroom mirror. When a pregnant woman has to go, she has to go, no matter what's going on in her life. At least that's what I'd heard, that pregnant women had to go to the bathroom more than they usually would.

I now had a gray hoodie on. I raised the bottom of it and glanced at my flat tummy. I couldn't believe there was actually a baby living there. I'd been doing that a lot today, raising my shirt to check out my stomach. There wasn't a bump in sight, but I knew one would soon be there.

I closed my eyes and tried to relax my muscles. But how can you relax your muscles when you're ready to fight whatever's coming ahead, and start the fight sooner rather than later? How? I rubbed my stomach for the first time ever. I rubbed soft circles around it and glanced down to see if there was the slightest sight of a bump. There was just a small bump when I slouched, but that had always been there, it was something that showed that I wasn't actually starving myself.

I sighed. I put my shirt and hoodie back down and glanced at myself once more, deciding that this was my last time here. I quickly brushed my already straight and curly hair through with the brush once more and threw it into the backpack.

I'd changed clothes quickly. I was now wearing a long sleeved dark blue shirt, a gray hoodie, jeans and the black leather boots I love.

I grabbed my two suitcases and my backpack and opened the door. I glanced back with a small smile. I shut the door as quietly as I could.

I quickly walked down the street. I didn't get out of the house much but I still knew my way around more or less. I took a bus to the other end of town, which took like an hour and a half. It was already around five when I'd left home so the sun was starting to set.

I went to the train station and bought a ticket. Since my train wouldn't leave for a good time, I went to a near by store and bought a sandwich, a coke and a two chocolate cookies. I went back to the train station and waited for the train that would carry me towards my freedom.

I been inside the train for around an hour now. So far my plan was going like it should be. So far, so good. I was reading a book I'd brought with me.

I was almost to the end of the book when I gave in to sleep. I knew that it could make my plan more difficult to follow. I prayed that I could sleep peacefully until we got to my destination without interruptions, without crazy things coming after me.

As I fell asleep I thought about what I would have to do to keep myself and this child alive. I needed to protect this baby. I'd heard about what other mothers had to say about their children, that they would die for them if they had to, would I feel that way? Despite the child was conceived in misery? Would I love it? Would I hate it?

What we're we going to do? I could probably get a job somewhere, live under a bridge if I had to. In survival, there wasn't any room for comfort-or so I thought.

God, I thought. Help us. You've seen what my father does to me. Please help me. Don't let them catch me. Help me make wise decisions. Help me be a good mother. Help me be a good person. Please help me out. Help me figure out what the next part of my plan is ... I ran out of things to say. I wasn't one to pray- I rarely did. I had a lot of things going through my mind, but I thought that they wouldn't be things God had the time to listen to. If there really was a God out there, he would already know everything, so why would I repeat myself? Amen.

The Jeb/Max part is gross (trust me, it disgusted me to write it) but some of this happens in real life, right? On a happy note, I won't have to write anymore of it (I hope) and you guys won't have to read it.

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XOXO,

emeralgreenlove