Hes not mean Hes misunderstood

-1- Downhill

My name is Phoebe, Phoebe Hope Winston.  But my friends call me Phe or Pho.  Thats why I got bullied.  My name sounds weird and I don't like it. 

Im 14 almost 15 (a little less than a year younger than Dallas), I have long brown hair that falls below my waist.  I loved my hair it was well kept.  Dallas hated how long it got but I didn't care.  I was about 5,4.  I was fat for what my parents fed me (which was a sandwich once a week if I was lucky)

I bet you already know all about my older brother Dallas Tucker Winston he's always getting in trouble with the fuzz.  He was tuff though.  He can handle himself in the cooler.  Even if it did mean that he would get hit at home.  I was like Dallas about getting in trouble.  Not with the fuzz though.  They were to tuff for me.  I got in trouble at school though

One day I walked home from school.  Dallas was a drop-out and both of my parents worked so after school it was me ad Dallas getting in more trouble.  We robbed stores, went to parties, jumped people, cool and tuff stuff like that.  Thats how Dallas got in trouble with the fuzz.  I always ran away. 

When I got there Dallas normally waited for me outside.  Instead he was inside.  I walked in to see about 10 empty beer bottles and 5 empty wine bottles.  My parents were asleep on the couch.  "Why aren't they at work" I thought to myself.

I heard a quiet sob loud enough for me to hear but quite so mom or dad didn't wake up.  I walk into mine and Dallas's room to see him sitting on the floor with his hands on his knees crying.  I carefully sat next to him.  He shot his head up in shock.  I saw something I never thought I would. 

Dallas looked at me with his tear stained eyes.  Normally his eyes were an icy blue.  Now I saw something.  His eyes looked like a beautiful ocean.  Then I snapped back to reality and I saw fear in his eyes.  He had cuts all over his face and neck.  Bruises all over his body.  I've never seen Dallas like this.  I wrapped my arms around his neck trying to comfort him.  He spoke softly. 

"Phe.  M...M...Mom a...and da...dad...they've g...gone c...crazy."  He stuttered over his words. 

"When are they not" I said trying to lighten the mood.  He looked at me so fearful of his parents I shivered.  " You cold?" He said changing the subject.  "No.. not really."  I was freezing but I wouldn't admit it.  I don't really know why.

We all forgot about it for 2 days

DALLAS POV (of that day)

My parents came home really early that day.  In fact 5 hours early.  They shot me a dirty look and walked to the TV.  I watched them drink and drink and drink.  I ended up counting 13 beer bottles drunk by my dad and 5 wine bottles drunk by my mom.  Then they slowly got up and walked towards me.  So slowly It felt like it was in slow motion

Then all of a sudden my dad walked into the kitchen and grabbed a sharp knife.  My mom always and I mean always carried a switch blade.  Then they walked towards me drunk and cornered me I slowly grabbed my own switch that I kept in my pocket.  Only to realize I left it at the cooler.  I began to swear under my breath.  They pinned me on the counter setting the blades next to them in case they needed them.

"STOP IM YOUR SON!!! I KNOW YOUR DRUNK BUT DON'T KILL ME!!! IM 15 FOR CRAP SAKE I CANT DIE NOW!!!"  I hollered at them.  They didn't listen.  They began cutting me, slapping me, punching me, kicking me.  Eventually I passed out making them leave.  I was out for about 3 hours.  Then I woke up remembering everything.

"I cant tell Phoebe about any of this."  I stood up to see both of my parents passed out on the couch.  I walked over to my room and sat down.  I felt a tear roll down my face. 

I heard the door open and close.  I tried to stop crying but I let out a faint sob.  Phoebe came in and comforted me.  I felt a bit better but I couldn't take it much longer. 

A/N: IM WORKING ON MORE. I HOPE YOU LIKE IT.  IM NEW TO WRITING