Once Apoun a Olton

-OAAO: C1-

Have you ever wanted to die? Wanted nothing more from life? Someone one, when I was little once told me: everything happens for a reason...and  if you think nothing's happening that you'd like, figure out why cause there's probably a reason.

I carried it with me to this day. And I tried, and tried. Picking my brain at it everyday. What's wrong with my life? Why can't I have the life I want, and not the life fate chose. Who is fate anyway and how could they get to decide my life. Hence it's my life? Why can't it be the way I want.

And this is the part where fate snapps at me and tells me, 'this is your life. I push you in a direction and it's your choice to go that way or not.'  But that's not true. If you put me in this direction then it's the way you want me to go in. I can't go any other way?

Fate is a lie. It controls my life and destiny. And if I can't control that, I can't control anything.

"Hurry, and get out of my house!" A slurred voice yells as the purple door of my room slams open. It slams so hard it smacks against the wall denting it just a little more than it already is. The purple paint it's littered with scratches and chipped. I try to focus on it as the stench of alcohol invaids my nostril's.

"Look at me when I'm talking!" His voice shouts. My eyes snap up to the face I loath. The face I hate with every fiber and being of my body.

"You hear me? When I talk?" He says coming right into my face, rapping a fist full of hair into his oversized palm. I wince as it still hurts from yesterdays damage. I keep silent, as a way to keep any sobs inside. I didn't want to be weak. Not in front of him.

"SPEAK!" he says fiercely. He pulls my hair a little tighter and I close my eyes for a spare second. The smell of his breath is toxic, and I wish not for the stench of his breath to fan over my face. The unpleasantness of this situation makes my stomach coil all by its self. But what else can I endure? I have nothing else. But this torture I go through everyday.

When I open my eyes, I stare into a pair of blood shot eyes. The greyness of them so dried out and vacant. Not a trace of love ever lined them. Probably never will.

"I hear you." I muttered in a whisper.

"Good. Be gone." He says and releases me. Shoving me away. I quickly move a way from his hold and find my back pack on the floor. I tug it over my shoulder and hurry out of my room.

I hurry down then hall and out the front door.

I do have something. A car. It was my dads and somehow I managed to get it. He died when I was 15... He thought me how to drive it  and so I kept it. I had to after he died. It was hard keeping it. Living with him. He doesn't want me to go anywhere.

It was an old truck. A little rusty, but it got the job done. It was probably the only thing I loved at the moment.

I got in slamming the the doors shut. I opened my mirror and looked at myself. The purple under my eye had faded just a little. I dug into my bag taking out my make up kit.

I wouldn't let anyone see me this way. Not my friends. Not anyone.

I applied some on said area until it looked as normal as the rest of my skin.

I closed the kit and snapped shut the mirror.

And now for school .

*O*A*A*O*

I pulled up at the school ten minutes later. I was early. I was always early. This happened a lot, epecially when someone kicked me out.

I locked my doors as I got out.