Living with the Waltons

Lacy DeLaurentis. Never had a good home life. Wait, scratch that. This place wasn't her home. There were broken beer bottles and cigarattes scattered around the floor. The dishes were stacked up in the sink and there wasn't even any heat. But most importantly, she was broken; just like the beer bottles. Her brother died in a car wreck, her dad went MIA, and her mother married a drunk. Life couldn't get any better.

Note the sarcasm.

But one day, that might just happen. When her step-dad, Ron, goes too far, she escapes to her Aunt Amanda's house in San Antonio. She, her fiance Tim, and his seven boys take her under their wings. But when the boys want in her heart, will she let them in? Will she let them fix the shattered pieces of her heart? Or will she leave the jagged pieces on the ground?

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"Get out of my house! Now! " His scream shook throughout my body as I got a better hold on my bag and ran out the door. "And don't EVER come back!"I don't plan on it, believe me.When I ran out of that place and into the hot summer heat, I didn't feel a thing; be it regret or joy. The only thing I felt was relief. No more worries, no more pain. No more hurt. I was free. Sure, I didn't know where I was going and, yeah, I was walking aimlessly along the road at 11:00 at night. But I was away from that retched thing I don't even dare call a step-father. I was gone. And I wasn't ever going back.

I was starting over again.

2 HOURS EARLIER

I was sitting in my room, listening to Valerie by Amy Winehouse, when I heard a scream. I know it may sound morbid but, I didn't flinch. I just sat there and waited for laughter. My step-dad was a drunk and used to always beat my mom, Leslie, but he finally got caught and had to take therapy. He's over the beating part but he still gets drunk every day. On some occasions, he would pretend to go at her and she would scream. Seconds later, he would lunge and tickle her. She would laugh and they would move on; she would nurse his hangover the next day just so he could go and get hammered later on.

But the laughter never came. I sat there for maybe a second later - a second to long - before I got up and ran down stairs. I found my mom on the floor next to the coffee table, crying and holding her hand. Blood was oozing from it as I rushed to her side.

"Mom! A-are you okay?!" I tried to grab her hand and help her when she screamed out in agony and pulled it away. "J-just put pressure on it. Mom. It will be okay. I'm gonna take care of you." I coaxed and then turned around to face Ron. "You!" I screeched as I pointed an accusing finger at him.

"Yeww!" He slurred as he pointed a finger back at me. I didn't even care I was so boiling angry.

"What did you do to her?" The words seeped through my clenched teeth like venom. "What did you do to her?!" I asked a second time; my volume increased this time.

He smirked as he made his way over to me. His words were getting angrier every time he spoke. "Now, now, Pretty. Don't get snappy with me, Lacy." He moved his hand up to my face and pushed a piece of hair back.

"Don't - don't hurt her Ron. I-I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that - I'm sorry - don't hurt my baby.." My mom trailed off as she rested her head on the side of the coffee table.

"Your mom, Little Miss Feisty, decided to slap me. She finally decided that I wasn't good enough for her and she was gonna run away. I tried to stop her and accidentally broke a plate. That's why her hand is cut." He rambled on and I couldn't take it anymore. This was the fourth-no fifth-time he has hurt my mom. I wasn't going to put up with it anymore!

"The thing is, Ron, you're not good enough for her. Or me." I reached up my hand and slapped him right across his worthless face. His stubble scratched my hand but I didn't care; I was the happiest person alive! I grinned but quickly regretted it when he put his hand into a fist and punched me right in my jaw. I heard a crunch and fell to the floor. Ron squatted down so he was on my level and smiled evilly. "You shouldn't have done that."