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IT was the first time in almost a week that Clara had went home. She didn't like going home. Her dad was an asshole that drank his life away. The house was once a place she enjoyed going to, because she knew she would be invited into her mother's warm embrace. Now with her mother gone, her embrace was replaced by her father's cold glances.
Before her mother left, her father didn't drink nearly as much as he does now, and he definitely didn't hit anybody. Clara barely recognized him now compared to when she was younger. He drowned his sorrows in cheap alcohol and drugs and lashed out at anything and everything.
Clara stood in front of the porch, deeply exhaling, trying to decide if she actually wanted to go inside. Her body swung side to side, her foot hovering over the first step before she planted it on the wood planks.
Now she was definitely doing this.
She placed her other foot on the step above, and then stepped onto the porch. Her hand reached for the door handle, hesitating as she heard the tv from inside the living room. Clara quietly opened the storm door, the loud creak causing her to cringe. With her teeth clenched together, she carefully opened the front door, trying to be as quiet as possible.
Upon entering, she was immediately met with the stench of beer and cigarettes. She shut the door behind her, and walked through the living room, past her sleeping father, heading straight to her bedroom located at the back of the house.
She opened her bedroom door, and shut it behind her. She flipped the lock and walked over to her bed, taking her backpack off. The bag unzipped easily and she dumped her clothes out from the previous days and piled them into her laundry hamper. She stashed the wad of cash back into her backpack, not risking her father finding it and spending it on himself.
She licked her lips as she went over to her closet, peeling it open and grabbing some more clothes and stuffing them into her backpack. She left her room to take a shower, but other than that she remained in her room.
Clara changed into a flowy blue and yellow striped t-shirt and pair of blue jean shorts, and she tied her hair into low hanging space buns. She cleaned her room, which was mainly just clothes scattered around the place.
She pursed her lips with a sigh. She wished she was with her friends right now.
Her head spun around her room, scanning around for her camera. Her eyebrows furrowed together as she began to search her room, looking under her bed, in her closet, behind her bed, behind and under her dresser, on her vanity, her bookshelf and behind her stuffed animal collection on the edge of her bed that was pressed against the wall.
It was certainly not in her room.
She exhaled, opening her bedroom door and began searching the house. She looked in the bathroom, wasn't there. The kitchen, wasn't in there. Looked in the linen closet, wasn't there. She looked in her dad's bedroom, wasn't anywhere in there.
