Help me.

Hello everyone! Just a few disclaimers before I get this story started.

1: This story belongs on Wattpad only.

2: I was 15 when the events occurred, however, that does not mean I was not an adolescent and unable to care for myself.

3: Do not try to invalidate my experience please, I am human, and I know my memory can blow things out of the water. 

4: Take everything with a grain of salt, because I was 15, and for a bit of explanation my age ranged from 5 to 12, and I am no longer 15 at this time.

5: Slight themes of gaslighting and abuse. It's only brought up twice, though.

6: Anger issues, particularly from a male figure.

7: Dark tone throughout the whole chapter.

Alright, that's it! Please remember that you don't have to read this all the way through. If at anytime the story makes you embarrassed or uncomfortable, that's okay! Take a break and come back later! Onto the story!

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It all started on a normal day, so normal that I didn't notice my dad was in a sour mood. It was my fault honestly. I was walking up to the truck he almost always picks me up in, the only time he doesn't is when he's in a really good mood or we need to get somewhere fast, and when I said hello he took a whole three seconds to respond. We were talking about my day when I brought up how I always can't seem to find a question for TRF's. TRF is a paper I get in avid, to help with any questions I might have. I told my dad that I can't seem to find questions in math, and that's when it went south. 

He said to me, "Why don't you check your math grade then?" I was a fool. I went along with it though, and I checked.

"It's a D." I said, quietly. I was cold, despite it being warm in the truck. He had the temperature of the truck at 90 degrees Fahrenheit because it was snowing that day. I could've been outside and I wouldn't have noticed the snow with my now chilled body.

The chill was like my version of spidey-sense. I only got it when the chance of something bad happening was apparent. I've had the chill many times in my life, but the times I noticed it the most was when I was with my dad. 

I was always scared of my dad because when I was five he spanked me. I said he beat me after that, and mom had to explain to me that he never beat me, he never hit me with bad intent. I argued with her, of course I did, I had the red ass to prove I was right to my mom, but she never listened. She called me a liar, and if I was any smarter I would've noticed later on that both my parents deemed me a liar, and that's where they started jumping the gun.

The next time I felt the chill was when I snuck my phone back after I got grounded at twelve. I convinced my sister to call my phone my tablet, and I was doing so well hiding it. Then my dad saw a glimpse of it, and oh boy was he pissed. He was calm-faced, but I knew better. I felt the chill and I knew I was doing something I wasn't supposed to, this couldn't end well for me. It took him less than a minute to find the phone. It took him less than a minute to push me against the wall so hard it left a hole. It took him less than a minute to hit my light switch so hard it broke the cover for it. He did all that, in less than one minute. 

The chill came back that same month when my school called them, saying I stole a snack from one of my teachers mini-shops. I was horrified when I was notified they called my parents, and I was lucky they didn't expel me. My dad was pissed off, and saying mad would be an understatement. He dragged me to my room and showed me what he'd done. He said to me something that I will claim to be, "the statement that ended a pre-teen."