Disclaimer: I don't own Race to Witch Mountain.

A/N A shout out to my Beta MayAngelsLeadYouIn! Thank you!

Prologue

I flinched and stifled a cry as my fathers fist slammed into my cheek. He punched my stomach then kicked my shin. He grabbed my hair and slammed my head into the wall. My skull caught the corner of a painting; it broke the skin. I whimpered and curled into a ball crying. My dad left; his footsteps broken thanks to the numerous beer bottles scattered around the room. I continued "crying". I peeked out from lidded eyes and he was gone. I immediately stopped crying and stood up. I brushed off my ripped up skinny jeans and sighed, hating myself for letting him think I was weak and pathetic.

Later

I took stock of my injuries. A couple of bruises, cuts, and a bleeding head. Over all I'd gotten off easy. I sighed; I knew what I had to do before this got too far out of hand.
When mom had died, dad had broken. He got drunk most nights and blamed me for her death. He lost his job and hadn't even made an effort to get another one. Our apartment's rent was due but we didn't have enough money to pay it.

I had to run away. With that figured out, I figured I might as well start to pack. I knew I wouldn't have to worry about dad because I was sure he just went out to some bar and is getting even more drunk than he already was. Just to be on the safe side, I checked all around the house. He was gone. Good. Now I could get ready.
I threw a couple of changes of clothes into a backpack and stole the rest of our money (the small bit my dad hadn't taken or spent already) and a long kitchen knife (eh, you never know when it will come in handy). I also grabbed some necessities, like my iPod, and my sketchpad among other things. I glanced around my room.
There wasn't much I would miss here. I wrote my dad a note and walked out the door for what I hoped was the last time.