Chapter 1
I woke up in the dark basement that was my 'bedroom'. I slowly propped myself up on my elbows. I had gotten use to the stiffness in my back the happened from sleeping on the floor. I just stayed there like that, woundering when my life had really taken a turn for the worse.
Was it when my mother died? Or when my father decided he'd want nothing to do with me? Or maybe, just maybe it was when I had been dumped into the foster system, thrown away like yesturdays garbage. I rarely dwelled on my past. I honestly just didn't care anymore. There was no sence in focusing on things that I couldn't change.
I sighed and got up, waiting to be called for today's 'chores'. If that's what you could call them. Considering all I did was kater to the ever whim of my bitch of a foster mother. She hated children, so why she would even adopted them was beyond me. Probably just for the check she got every month for me. Money that was supposed to go to the food I ate and any other necessity I needed. Even though i'd never seen one cent of that money. Hell, I barely even got food.
I heard the basement door open, "Get your lazy ass up and make my breakfast." my foster mother called for the top of the stairs.
"Yeah, because i'm the lazy one." I said under my breath as I started up the steps. In the nine months that i'd been here that women never even lifted a finger. Unless it was to hit me. I shivered at the thought of that. I mean she always beat me, but sometimes were worse than others. Like last nights for instance. I hadn't made her food right so she threw the plate at my head. I had a nasty cut there now. When the bleeding had stopped I was sent to clean up 'my mess'.
I walked into her kitchen and made her breakfast. When she wasn't watching I spit in it, and then handed it to her. "Fucking took you long enough." she snapped at me. I muttered an apology and I was ordered to clean the house. I started in the bathroom, cleaning the floor, the sink, the toliet, and then the bath tub. I found little ways to repay her for all her torture. Like spitting in her food, putting tooth paste in her shampoo, ectera.
It was nearly five o'clock and I had just finished cleaning. I made her dinner and then sat on the floor, like the dog I was according to her. I was only allowed up when she was finished eating and I had to clean up after dinner.
"There is so rotten food in the fridge. It has mold, I was going to throw it out, but I thought of you." she said with a smug smile.
"THANK YOU OH SO MUCH!" I said with all the fake excitement I could muster.
"Fuck you. Don't like it then dont eat it. Starve to death. I don't give a shit." she said getting up and walking to the bathroom. I was so fed up with her, I had been dealing with this for the nine months. I couldn't help the words and they tumbled out of my mouth.
I turned to face her, "I'd rather eat shit, than this." I said pulling the moldy food out of the fridge throwing it in her direction. "And you want to know something else? I'm fucking sick of you and your bullshit. You say i'm lazy? You haven't lifted one fucking finger in the nine months that i've been here. So you really need to just calm down and go listen to Boy George records, or something. You aren't going to treat me like shit anymore." I could feel the anger rolling off of me.
I smiled smuggly, imatating her, "And another thing, FUCK YOU!" That was it, i'd pushed her to her limit. She rushed me and before I knew what was happening, my head smacked off the floor. I cried out in pain, feeling something warm soak through my hair. She was on top of me, screaming and pounding her hands into my face. She grabbed my head and started smacking it off the floor repeatedly. I felt more, of what I assumed to be blood, trickle out of my head.
"GET. OFF. OF. ME!" I shouted trying to losen her grip on my head.
"Shut up bitch, you need to be taught a lesson!" she yelled at me.
