Call me worthless *completed*

Chapter 1

Beep! Beep! Beep!
"Ugh..." I rolled over in my bed, burying my face into my pillow to block out the sounds of my alarm. The flowy white curtains were open slightly, letting pools of light onto the bed.

"Stupid, Stupid alarm..." I mumbled, slamming down the snooze button. I rolled off of my bed. I stood up, stretched, and slipped my feet into my fluffy slippers.

I still had a week before school. To say I was excited was a understatement. I loved school, but it was seven hours away from this place. I shuffled to the bathroom at the end of the hall with a sigh. I looked into the mirror. My short, plump figure stood in the reflection. My shoulders were slumped and my face was flushed from sleep.

I washed my face and pulled my long blackish-brown hair into a ponytail. I walked back into my room and picked out some sweat pants and a black plain v-neck T-shirt.

I grabbed my bag and plopped down the stairs. No one was downstairs, as usual. Dad was probably still asleep, or maybe he was out at a bar. Either way I was glad he wasn't here. I grabbed an apple from the kitchen and walked out of my house. The cool, morning air was pleasant. I walked down the street to the small, hole-in-the-wall bookstore that I work at down the road. The street was packed with small, suburban homes. The flowers in the neighbors yards were blooming in the summer weather.

Five minutes later, I reached the bookstore. I could see the bookshelves jam-packed with books through the big windows. The bell above the door rang as I opened it. The air smelled like a mixture old books and a sweet, rosy smell that you would probably smell at your grandmothers house.

"Welcome to Jamie's, be with you shortly" Said a short, old woman with a wrinkled face and long gray hair. She turned around to see me and sighed happily. "Poppy! You're here!"

"Hey Margaret" I replied with a warm smile.

Margaret pointed to a cart of new books for me to put away.

"Thanks, sweetie" She said, turning away to help a customer.

Margaret was the old lady that owned the store. She was always so nice to me. She let me pick the hours of when I worked because she understood my circumstances.

Three Hours Later

I was tired of all these books. I walked to the front desk. I asked Margaret if she wanted anything from the coffee shop next door, but she turned me down kindly.

I walked through the door that led to the small coffee shop attached to the library. I waited in the line of tired-looking people until it was finally my turn.

"May I have a vanilla latte over ice please?" I asked the pretty, red-headed cashier kindly. My eyes scanned the menu. "Oh, and a bagel."

"You sure you want that bagel?" she asked with a snicker, scanning my over-weight body with a dirty smirk. "Maybe a little... less bagels?" She chomped away at the piece of gum in her mouth.

I felt my face redden "Uh actually I just ate. Maybe next time" I said sheepishly.

"Good choice. $5.45"

I drank the coffee and walked back to the bookstore. "Honey, can you help me with this?" Margaret asked, gesturing a box towards me. I walked over to her, took the box, and shoved it into the shelf.

"What did you have for lunch?" she asked, glancing over at me while putting books into the shelf.

"Oh, um, a turkey sandwich" I lied.

She raised an eyebrow and looked at me.

"What?" I said.

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A couple hours later I finished and started to pack up. I walked back home to an empty house and started to cook dinner. My father was coming home tonight. The pasta sizzled in its pot, it was almost done. I ran upstairs to take a quick shower.

Ten minutes later, I came back downstairs smelling like citrus soap. My hair was wrapped in a towel and I was wearing baggy, faded pajamas.

The first thing I smelled when I walked into the kitchen was an unpleasant mixture of sweat, alcohol and cigarette smoke. I scrunched my nose in disgust. My dad was slumped in the seat of the kitchen counter. A hastily-made plate of pasta was in front of him. He looked up at me and smiled with his eyes half closed. He got up and stalked over to me like I was prey.

"Did you work." he said in a flat tone, his hot breath smelled of alcohol.

"Y-yes" I stuttered, avoiding his gaze.

"Where's the money then." He asked, breathing heavily.

I pointed to my purse on the counter. He snatched it, took out my wallet and let my bag fall to the ground. He opened the wallet and took a two twenty-dollar bills out.

"Why does that stupid old lady pay you at all, you worthless slut." I flinched as he stepped towards me "You're probably lying to me. How did you get this money, huh? You stole it?" He stared at me intensely.

I backed away. "I've worked there for five months." I said quietly "She pays me when she does, I don't work on a schedule."

"I don't like liars." He said menacingly as he pulled his hand back and slammed it into my face. I cried out and fell to the floor, but quickly scrambled back to a standing position. I ran upstairs, desperate to get away from him, tears poured down my cheeks. I dashed into my room and slammed the door. I layed in the dark, sobbing.

Since my mom died when I was 12, he always blamed me. He works hard to pay for the nice two-story house we live in. He's almost never home, but when he is, he's drunk, and well... not nice. But he always buys me something to make it up to me. Like last time when he broke one of my ribs a month ago, he bought me an iPhone

"Baby I'm so sorry..." I heard him slur his words through the door. I curled into a ball and cried until I fell into a deep sleep.

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Hey guys that was chapter one hope you liked it.