He throws the half full bottle at my head. "Make me!"
I scream as the blood starts dripping from my face. "Dad!" I yell. "I didn't even say anything!"
Ever since my mom died, my dads been psycho. He's killed our cat, repeated scenes like these, many times. And he quit his job.
I lock myself in my room and listen to the banging of my dad stomping around looking for more alcohol as I wipe off my face. Suddenly a hand pops through my door. "Dad!" I scream at him. "You broke my f***ing door!" he pulled his hand out and kicks the door down.
"It's all your fault!" He yells. "You killed her! She's dead now! It's all your fault!" He starts hitting me. The feeling of his hand on my face and my stomach and my arms. It was... I can't even think of a word to describe the pain it caused.
But it did help me in a way. It made me realize I had to leave.
He was asleep now. I pack four changes of clean clothes, some cans of peas and other canned food, and an empty milk carton filled with water into a rolling suitcase. I get some shoes and and a piece of paper.
Dad,
I left. I am NOT coming back.
You did this to yourself.
Don't look for me.
-Jen
I put the small piece of paper on a shelf in the alcohol shelf in the pantry so I know he'll see it, and slip out the front door.
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So this isn't that long, but it's longer than other books soooo...
This isn't from my real life... don't call child protection.
YOU ARE READING
How to Heal
Roman pour AdolescentsJen has had a hard life. She broke her foot when running, and probably will never run again. Her mom died and her dad went crazy. Her best friend and the only person she could ever trust moved away, and now the last dribble of hope that someone care...
