𖣙
Imogen Halstead (age 12)
Word count: 1902
Tw? Yelling/arguing
Imogen's POV
"Dad!" I call out from the bathroom. I've been stood here for ten minutes holding this stupid shower curtain up, and he still hasn't got up from the couch to help me. It's in times like these where I wish I lived with my brothers, I'm sure Jay and Will would make much better parents than our dad ever could. I groan as I finally hear his footsteps approaching, "what?! I'm watching the game!" He slurs. I roll my eyes, "and I've been waiting for your help for ten minutes..." I shake my head. He waves me off and walks away, "w-dad?! Where are you going?" I look up. I hear him sit back down in his usual chair, "y'know what? I don't care either..." I let go of the shower curtain and jump out of the way as it comes crashing to the ground.
"What was that? You better clean that up..." My dad complains as I move to stand in front of the TV. I look down at the coffee table and notice that he's drank a lot of beers, more than usual. No wonder he can barely form a full sentence. He shoos me away impatiently, "no, I won't move dad. You're supposed to be the adult here..." I begin but he soon cuts me off by throwing a glass bottle at the wall behind me, "Jesus, you really make me regret asking for a third kid" he shakes his head angrily. I stay on the ground with my head tucked inside my arms, just in case he throws another bottle my way. I can feel my heart racing in my chest.
"You're a complete waste of time..." he continues his rant. I wipe my tears away as he takes another deep breath, "I'm so disappointed in you, hell... I even wanted another boy, but instead I got you!" he slurs. He waves his arms in the air as he stands up, wobbling around like a hot mess, "I'm going for a smoke, you're exhausting me" he grumbles before walking over to the back door. He lets himself out and slams his door behind him. I let out a small cry before standing up, noticing the mess behind me. I carefully step away from the smashed glass and run towards my room, I don't want to live in this house anymore. I would call jay on my phone, but my dad locked it away in the safe inside his room... so I can't.
~
It's been roughly two hours since my dad lashed out at me, and I can hear him snoring in the living room. So I grab my shoes and jacket and suit up before quietly sneaking towards the front door, I can't stand being here any longer. I notice that my dad hasn't even bothered cleaning up the mess from earlier, and by the looks of it he's had a few more glasses of whiskey too. No wonder he's dead to the world right now. He continues snoring as I let myself out of the house. Anywheres better than here... I would take myself to jays apartment, but he just moved into a new complex and I don't remember how we got there. So it looks like I'll have to idly wander until I find a place to stop.
I don't know why I didn't fetch my coat, this tiny jacket isn't going to stop the icy cold feel of Chicagos winter on my skin. I'm already shivering never mind in half an hours time. I've been walking for ten minutes, and I've stumbled upon a park. So I make my way over to the nearest bench and sit down. It's cold beneath my legs, but I don't mind too much... not yet anyways.
I don't know how much time has passed, but it doesn't feel that long since I left the house. I've been sat on the bench, only now I've stopped shivering for some odd reason and my legs are numb. I can't find it in me to even attempt to stand up, so instead I drag my legs fully onto the bench and tuck my knees up to my chest. My head feels heavy, way too heavy to keep up, so I rest it on the cold metal next to me, although I can't feel the cold anymore... I'm so tired.
