*FLASHBACK*
It was an average Sunday night. My drunken father had come back from the bar and continued his relentless yelling and throwing of half-consumed whiskey bottles.
"You bitch!" he said, standing before the open locker that once held my mother's jewelry. "Why is this empty?"
"Its been so for weeks. You spent it all on the alcohol." I said softly in a futile attempt to not rile him up further. Instead he walked over and glared at my lowered head. His hand came down hard on my cheek and I gulped, silently taking the sting.
"Next time, rather than staring at me and answering back like the ungrateful little thing you are, just keep shut, GET IT?" He bellowed.
He walked away as I nodded, probably going off to the bar close by to intoxicate himself more, if that was even possible.
I put some ice on my cheek, the cool chill soothing the now reddening, burning skin.
I knew this wasn't the first time, and at this rate, it certainly wouldn't be the last.
But I did know that one day, even this will end.
*END OF FLASHBACK*
I realized I was still standing in the now empty corridor. My so-called best friend and boyfriend must have sauntered off to class together. Dejectedly, I made my way over to my first class for today, English.
YOU ARE READING
Don't Expect A Fairytale.
RomanceOnce upon a time, there was a girl named Eva. Her life was perfect, and one day she met her prince and had a happily ever after - NOT, because that's not how real life works, does it? Sure, she was the popular girl in school, cheer captain, the foo...