trust ↯phan

Chapter One

Ever since my mum decided to move us from Manchester to Brighton, things just got worse.

My father didn't want to quit his job because he is that type of guy, stubborn and picky, so now he ends up driving all he way from Brighton to Manchester just to go to work. It's obviously stressing him out and making him yell more than usual, complaining about how moving wasn't the smartest thing my mum could do.

My father did get worse, we know he did. He wouldn't smile as often as he would anymore, nor kiss my mum or show affection towards me. Back in Manchester, he used to, he would make us breakfast every morning he got the chance to, but he doesn't even do that here in Brighton. I just want him back. I don't want this new violent version of him, it scares me. It scares us.

Today is a Tuesday, better then Monday I suppose. My mum woke me up extra early because she had to go to work today. It's her first day on the job, so she wanted to make sure she got there on time. I understood and groggily dragged my arse out of bed to check up on my busted lip, just in case there was dry blood on it from last night. My dad hit me again, just because I forgot to clean the kitchen rubbish bin. We started arguing over my stupid mistake, his spit landing all over my cheeks as he yelled profanities at me, not even listening to my reason as to why I forgot. I had to do course homework so I quickly did the dishes and rushed to my bedroom to work on my english project, which I knew would take me all night to complete. But he didn't care, he said that I shouldn't have forgotten about the rubbish bin, making a huge deal out of a small mistake.

But he hit me, straight in the jaw, busting my lip open when I talked back to him, telling him how much of an arsehole he was acting towards me and my mum lately. I didn't care if I voiced my issues about him, if he was in the room or wasn't. He needed to know how crap he has been acting with us lately.

My father is not a bad guy, he really isn't. His anger issues really do get the best of him, cause the medication that he takes does help. But recently it hasn't been working very effectively, and I think he might need a stronger dosage or even therapy to recover and control his outbursts.

I really do miss him.

"Okay sweetheart have a good day at school." My mum appears from the corner of the entrance to our bathroom, her sweet smile hiding the bruise she has on her shoulder, due to my father grabbing her too hard. She honestly doesn't deserve all the crap he puts us through. I wonder if she misses him as well.

"Thank you mum, I wish you the best first day on the job." My hand rubs up and down on her arm, the sink being right next to the entrance. Her navy blue shirt sleeve rolls up a bit when I finished comforting her, that sweet smile never leaving her face. She kissed my cheek before leaving me be, my body turning to face the mirror again.

My pale fingers feel at the corner of my lower lip, the cracked skin covered in dry blood. I roll my eyes at the sight of a small purple bruise etched onto my jaw, leaving a trail all the way to my bottom lip. My reflection stares back at me as I observe myself for a second, checking if I look decent enough to leave the house. I'm wearing a flimsy flannel, checkered with blue and green, and some tight black skinnies, bottomed off with black converse. My hair looked like someone rubbed a balloon on it, irritating me to no end.

I decided to clean my lip with a cloth soaked in warm water, flinching whenever my other fingers brushed against my small bruise.

After I finished brushing my teeth and using the loo, I left to go have breakfast in the kitchen, eating my cereal in a hurry, hoping I can get to school to have a small chat with Pj about the english project. He is in my group and we were individually assigned to do a part of it, but since my father decided to argue with me, it took up the rest of my night, having to take care of the injury as well. It was all my fathers fault, and it isn't fair that my grade, our grade, had to suffer because of him.