No More

Chapter 3: I can't take anymore.

Sooo... I know it has been a long time since I updated, which I am very sorry about... Kinda because I lost my phone... Hehe. It's been a long week... Or month. But I hope this chapter makes up for it. Thank you for sticking with me for this long. Hope you enjoy!

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Liz

I sat on the bottom step for a while, contemplating how to continue up the stairs. I grabbed the rail and heaved myself up onto my knees. There was a stabbing pain against my chest,, but my focus was on getting up the steps.. From there, I just slowly crawled up, one hand on the  rail one hand stabilizing myself against the steps.

When I got to the landing I felt nothing but relief and pain. I started crawling towards my bedroom door. Once I dragged my body over the threshold, I pushed the door shut, locking it.

When I got to my adjoining bathroom, I finally got the courage to stand up. My head was still swimming, but it was at least tolerable. With my hand on the counter for stability, I steadily walked to the mirror and pulled the first-aid kit out of the drawer.

I had a few bruises here and there, but that wasn't what I was worried about. There was a huge lump on the back of my head where I was feeling around. It didn't feel good.

I lifted up my shirt, only to see a huge bruise where my ribs had been aching. Well that was unfortunate. I put medicine on the ones that needed it, but there wasn't much I could do for the bruises and my head. I slowly went back to my bed, and laid down for a while.  Next thing I knew, I felt sleep take over me.

***

I woke up the next morning at 8:30. Ooph. Not fun. That's how it always is though: wake up early every day, go to school, go to work, and on the weekends, it's just work.

At least my boss is nice. I went in the bathroom and slowly edged into the shower, as the cold water ran over me. I tried to save as much as I could, since my paycheck barely covered the bills a sit was

Once I got out, I reached into the drawer of my vanity to get the bottle of pain pills I had stolen from Dave. He had spent weeks trying to find out where they went, and when he didn't he took it out on me. I took two of the pills with a little water from the sink. Hopefully today would be better.

I had volunteered to take Carly's shift today because her 3 year old was sick, now I'm starting to ask myself why. Oh well. I'd just have to deal with it. That had been my motto for years now. I went and got dressed for work.

I slowly made my way down the stairs. I was still sore from yesterday so I tried to take it easy as I descended.

Luckily my father had left already, although I'm sure he wouldn't be gone long. I took the opportunity to hurry out the door and begin walking. My job was only a mile away, so it took me about ten minutes to get there.

As I walked I contemplated my life. There are so many people out there who have it worse than me. Living on the streets, having nothing, on the brink of death and can't get a job, and I sit here thinking about my life.

As I walked into the door of 'Freddy's,' my job, I took a whiff of the mouthwatering aroma of bacon, eggs, and pancakes.

I made my way through the crowded dining room, dodging tables and waitresses. I went to the back to get my apron.

Making my way to my cubby, I pulled pulled out my apron and filled it with the necessities, as I wrote down my name and the time I got there on the clock-in sheet.

It was going to be a long day.

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After I got off work, I started walking home. Once I got there, I saw my stepfather's car in the driveway. I slowly went to the side window and looked into the living room.

As per usual, beer bottles littered the floor, along with pieces of shattered glass. The ashtray was full and running over. Cigarette butts littered the coffee table and floor.

He was passed out on the couch with the TV still playing. I couldn't handle this. My stepfather just waiting to beat me. This was too much. It then dawned on me. Even if I did manage to escape at the end of the year, he would come. He always would. With his friends in major gangs, there was no way I could run. I only had one choice, and it may or may not be mine.

He had to die.