Nevermind Me

K no hate please!!! Thx, I'm a new writer....

---------------------------------------------

"Dad? Are you....are you okay?"

He didn't respond. Just kept laying there on our ratty old couch, wearing nothing but his torn jeans patched with duct tape. Then I noticed the needle in his hand and I sighed. "Not again." I whispered to the air, "Come on!"

I hated it when my father did his drugs. It didn't surprise me, just infuriated me. If it wasn't a needle in his hand, though, it wouldn't have been a bottle which was just as likely with him. I'd told him that I wasn't taking anymore! What does he get from it? I will never drink or do anything like him because I've seen the side effects. I never want to lose control of a situation.

Like he had just lost control of me. "I'm done." I told the air, "This time I'm actually leaving." I turned away from my father and picked my cell phone up from the floor beside me. Technically our cell phone, as we could never have afforded more than one. As it is I haven't had a new shirt or pants or trousers or shoes for over a year. All my dads unemployment money went to food.....and alcohol.

I felt something warm run down my cheek and quickly brushed it off. No -I thought- not now. Stay strong.

Opening the phone, I dialled the emergency number and stated what had happened to my dad and where they could find him. I hung up before they could ask me who I was.

Dropping the phone beside the couch, I knew I only had minutes before the bobbies and paramedics came crashing through the door. I stood up and walked to my room, more of a closet really, no bed just towels in a heap. I usually didn't sleep anyways. But that was about to change. I was done taking care of my good for nothing father, now it was time to start thinking of me for once. I shoved the few things I had, including my only book (a worn out copy of The Hobbit that I'd read way to many times), a locket with a photo of my mum, and my fathers wedding ring, into my scuffed purple backpack. He had tried to sell it but I had hid it from him. I bent down and laced my too-small shoes up so I wouldn't trip and pulled on my long sleeved shirt and beenie. Good thing it was summer.

I pause on my way out, looking at my fathers restful face, jumping when I heard the sound of sirens getting closer. I pressed my lips to my three fingers and waved to my father....or the only thing left of him at least.

I sighed, then ran out of that run down, broken place and out onto the streets of London. I smiled to myself, the fresh air feeling like a new beginning. Shit, who was I kidding? This beginning was going to end up just as bad as the polluted air I was trying to pass as fresh.

Slinging my bag over my shoulder, I started walking to who knows where. My shoes were the only thing I really paid any attention to. I guess that's why I didn't see him.

---------------------------------------------

Thoughts? Please comment!! I'm not British, so if u are, please tell me if I'm getting facts wrong or if my writing is offensive.

Thanks!!! Next part published soon!!