I walked out of my room, quietly closing my door so my mom wouldn't hear me.
I ditched climbing out of my window. I was growing up. And getting taller, even though I was 5'5 and one of those small, lanky, but old kids in my grade. I was almost seventeen years old, almost out of school for summer break, since it was May.
I have a lot of friends. I have Zoe
Troye, Ray, and Scott. They were known as the "rebels" in the school. The ones who stay up late on Friday nights who go on school property, walking around without a care in the world. They were the breve ones.
Well I wasn't. I was known as the quiet, small, choir nerd. Scott was a choir nerd too, he had a beautiful singing voice but didn't really seem to know it. Well he was actually cool. I am more popular now because I met Zoe, Ray and Troye. I've know Scott basically my whole life so we practically live together. We usually go to his house since I never knew my father and never really had one in my life. So it felt like Scott's dad was my dad as well. My mother. My mother was a drunk addict who hates my guts. Scott's parents were always there for me. They are like my parents. Well dream parents.
I got a text message from Scott saying that he was out side waiting for me. We lived a couple streets away from each other so he walked from his house to mine every day. I kind of felt bad for him having to do that every single day, but he always reassured me that it was fine with him, and he didn't mind doing it either.
I tiptoed down the stairs trying not to let my mom hear me. The house was a mess. I never really left my room so I never got a chance to see what a reck this place that I call my house is. I slipped on a piece of clothing, obviously my mothers, and obviously dirty.
"Mitchell," she stuttered out. She hobbled over to me tripping while holding a bottle of alcohol. "Where are you going?" I shrugged. "Tell me your not going to that Sam of yours." "His name is Scott," I said with a little bit of confidence. "I told you Mitch. He's too good for you. He is probably your only friend. He's going to leave you one day. Everyone is. You won't get no friends in that high school of yours. You are worthless." She grabbed me by my collar. "I hate that shirt." It was the shirt that Scott gave me. She didn't know though. She never leaves unless she's out with random strangers she finds at bars.
"Mom, you don't have to treat me this way. I'm going to be a senior in high school. I don't need to be punished anymore."
"I hate you and I always will. And I will hurt you if you sass me again," my mom said before slapping me straight across the face making my fall to the ground. My face felt like it was on fire. I rubbed my face with my hand on the place she hit me, not daring to look at her.
"I know you hate me mom. You tell me every day. You probably don't remember because you are always drunk every night." She looked at me with wide eyes. "What did you say to me?"
"I SAID THAT YOU ARE A DRUNK WOMAN AND YOU DO NOT HAVE TO TREAT ME LIKE I'M WORTHLESS!"
"MITCH! CANT YOU SEE! LOOK AT YOU! YOU ARE WORTHLESS!" She said angrily. She threw her bottle at my head, and after I ran out the door falling on my knees.
I took a deep breath, eyes full of tears. 'Don't cry' I thought in my head. ' You can't cry Mitch. Everyone will know your weak' I thought.
I felt some body rub my back in circles, and sitting down on the grass with me. They sat me in their lap and held me tight, hugging me tight. When I felt their touch, I smiled to myself, and melted into their touch, not daring to open my eyes.
"You know you don't have to do this. I'm really fine," I said looking up at Scott. He adjusted my glasses and smiled down at me.
"Yes I do. I care about you and I love you so much."
