One Tear Equals One Starkid Hug! (A Very Starkid Story)

Chapter 1

Where I meet Shaggy, Scooby, and Mr. Narwhal. Well, maybe not Mr. Narwhal.

"LET GO OF ME!" I screeched as my stepfather, Calvin Robs, grabbed me by my small wrist as I tried to leave the room. He made an angry noise and threw me with ease across the room.

I felt pain in my wrist, but I tried to ignore it. It was true, I'm small, weak, and fragile. I have no way to fight back to his abuse. I dash for the door, holding my wrist to my chest.

He grabs me by my other wrist and he slaps me across the face. I feel the sharpness of his cold hand and feel my face begin to bruise. He pounds me relentlessly, easily bruising my soft, vulnerable skin.

After half an hour of pain and torture, he leaves me limp in the living room. I whimper once, trying to move. I blink once as I realize my whole body has turned numb. One tear trickles down the side of my bruised face.

A new thought occurs to me: did he do this to my mother? Is this the only reason she married him? Because he threatened her?

My thoughts are answered as I hear my mother's strangled cry in the room that he went into. Rage flickers in my head, and I feel helpless and worthless as I hear my mother being knocked around, while I lay here unable to move.

My's too far away.

I choke out a sob and my mother stops her cries. Did he stop? Fall? Did she do something to him?

No, no, and no. He enters the room again, and seems angry that I'm still alive. He picks up his foot and stomps on my shoulder.

I scream in pain and feel it bruise. My wrist is definitely broken. I can feel it. My whole body is bruised. My stomach is bleeding. I see he has a beer bottle in his hand.

I force my foot to kick it out of his hands. He looks confused and staggers after it. I move as slow as a slug and try to navigate my way to the door. To my mother. To freedom.

I roll out of the room, the bruises on my body wailing as each roll hits the carpet with pain. I find my way to my mom's room. She's conscious...barely.

I crawl over to her and hug her, whispering anything comforting in her ear. She's softly crying now, looking up in my eyes, "I'm sorry."

I shake my head slowly, "We need to get out of here, Mom." She nods, and we hear the footsteps.

I turn to my mother with wide eyes, "Mom. He has a beer bottle. It's empty. Go behind the door, and get it. Throw it to me. Go!" She scampers over, limping, behind the door, out of his sight. Just then he enters the room. My heart pounding, head screaming, brain telling me I'm so not brave and stupid...

She hits him softly in the gut, but he's so drunk he thinks he's been seriously hurt. He falls, the bottle rolling away from him. I grab it and crawl over to his body. I hit him on the head with the bottle and see blood slowly oozing out of his skull.

But he's not dead. He's just unconscious for the time being.

I look up at my Mom, "Call grandma, pack your stuff. We're leaving. We've got 15-20 minutes before he comes round. We'll call EMS right before we leave the house, just as we're stepping out the door," I tell her breathlessly, and she just nods, looking terrified at my deadly tone, "Go. Now. We have to stay at Grandma's for the time being."

I slowly stand, wincing from all the pain the b(a)stard has given me. I get to my room and start to pack everything, from clothes to socks, socks to electronics. Only one suitcase is needed for my belongings.

I hear my mom talking to Grandma in the other room. The day's events pull over in my head. Calvin abusing me. Mom. Calvin leaving for work. Calvin drinking. First day of summer. Yippee.

My head starts to hurt and I walk into the hallway. I put my suitcase by the door and manage to get into Mom's room. She's finished packing and is on the phone with Grandma.

She's crying as she speaks, but calmly, and she tells her everything that's happened. She says a goodbye and "I love you" then hangs up.

"We have to get to Grandma's." She tells me wearily, and we leave the house, to Mom's car that Calvin always used.

"Call 911." Mom told me, handing me her phone. Her hands are shaking, like mine. I quickly call and tell them Calvin Robs abused my mother, me, and I hit him over the head with the bottle. I tell them everything I know about injuries..which is a fair amount. He'll be up in 10 minutes tops, enraged.

I tell them we have a safe place to go, and they say they're on their way. I hang up and realize we're already half way to Grandma's.

My mom's crying and passing the speedlimit.

"Mom, relax, okay? Relax.." I tell her soothingly, and she nods, sniffling, "I'm so sorry, honey."

"It's okay. He's out of our lives! We're golden!"

Little did I know, I just jinxed myself.


My sunglasses were on, blocking out the harsh sun. I sat on a bench in front of the children's playground. The bench sat on a hill that couples would use to watch the sunset...

But now, the only one occupying this bench was me, a sleeping hobo who cries in her sleep. My sunglasses made it impossible for a person to know if I were awake or asleep, and my sitting posture wasn't helping.

I wore my thick leather jacket over my small green tanktop and black pajama pants. My shoes were dirty Uggs. I didn't think anyone would try to talk to me.

I was so wrong, because not one, but two caring people talked to me.

"Hello? Miss? Are you awake?" Someone asked me in a cautious voice, it was small and unsure. I just hardly heard it. In my dream, the person talking was Mr. Narwhal.

"Thanks Mr. Narwhal." I mutter, stirring. There's silence as the person hears that, and they certainly question my sanity.

"Miss? Are you, um, stable?" That same, feminine voice asks me. I slowly open my eyes, and the whole world is dark.

Then I realize I'm wearing sunglasses. I shudder as I realize it's cold. The sun is slowly setting, and I jump up. The short, cautious young woman jumps back, landing in the arms of a very tall, dark haired man.

No, literally. Landing perfectly in his arms, like Shaggy&Scooby. You know, the short one being Scooby, the tall one, Shaggy...

Or did Shaggy jump into his dog's arms?

"Um, are you okay?" The tall guy, Shaggy, asks me. I hold my head, remember my life, and my lip trembles, as I begin to tell them how fine I am in a composed voice, I slump down and start to sob my story.

"My stepfather forced, hiccup, my mom to, hiccup, marry him! A-and, hiccup, we escaped to Grandma's, and, hiccup, Grandma kicked me out, hiccup, and, hiccup-" I broke off crying again.

I didn't look up, but heard them both slowly sitting down next to me on the grass. I hear them mouthing things to each other, over my head. Rude? Or caring?

"You're homeless." The woman states. I sniffle, nodding a bit, "Yeah?" She has brown hair to her shoulders and blue sunglasses on. She's really short, I can tell, even when she's sitting down.

"We have a home." She says slowly, as if I can't register it. I hear Shaggy mouthing something, and she holds her hand out to me, standing up.

"Let's be roommates!"

I made a face, taking her hand reluctantly and standing, "I don't have anything. I can't pay. I-I'm a stranger. You're a stranger! I'm with strangers!"

She laughs, "We're not that strange. Here," she takes out her ID. Lauren Lopez? Height: 5'0? Hair: Brown. Eyes: Brown.

I nod, handing her mine from my leather jacket pocket. She hardly glances at it, "Alright, Maddie! Let's see, hair? Brown. Eyes? Brown. Me too! But you're tan. Jealous...Ah! That's Jim there." She points to the tall guy, and he nods, leaning forward, "HELLO!" in a very deep, false voice.

"I'm not that deep, don't worry." He says quickly, and I realize my face must look shocked or scared.

I just nod, and Lauren laughs, "Maddie? Room-mates or what?" I think about it for a second.

Complete strangers.

I shake her hand, "Yeah. Sure."

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