I worked my last eight hours at the Pizza Shack. School started tomorrow and I had to keep my grades up, so I could finally escape the low life that holds the title of my father.
I found my key and opened the front door. I walked in silently, but all of a sudden my step hit the floor and it creaked. "Where in the hell were you all day," he said, storming over to me, slamming me into the nearest wall.
I bit my lip, to stop the scream I craved to yell out in pain. "You know that Sunday is the day I run out of alcohol and you weren't here to get me some." I smelled the beer on his breath and I knew he was wasted.
"Work," I whimpered out.
He slammed my shoulder against the wall. "I didn't see any money," he screamed at me.
I didn't reply. I just shrunk to the floor knowing exactly what would happen. He kicked me in the same shoulder he just injured. "You made her leave me!" Another kick, this time under the ribs. "You killed her!" He, then, picked me up by the shirt I wore and slammed me into the mirror by the hallway. I felt dampness in my hair and I knew blood was forming. "Why couldn't you dies instead of her? Why," I screamed at me.
"I wish I did," I whispered, as I tried to avoid the pain of the glass that punctured my skin. He stormed out of the room and I took that as my escape. I went straight up to my bedroom and grabbed my first-aid kit. "One day is over. Just have to get through another. Keep your head high, don't be in defeat, don't sigh," I whispered my chant lowly.
I climbed into bed after I treated my wounds that would just be reopened tomorrow. I wish I did die instead of my mother. Because who is happy with me alive? No one, that is who. No one cares if my existence goes on or if it fades. But, if they save my mom, people would be happy. My dad would be better and the world would be a better place. A place where the sun actually shined.
I felt myself relax and let sleep take over me.
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I awoke at five o'clock. I had to be out of the house by five thirty if I didn't want to be injured again. I quickly took a shower. I wore a tank top and a pair of blue jeans. I looked at my body and realized I couldn't wear my top. There were just too many bruises. I found my blazer and pulled it over the bruises that were sore.
I walked around until six o'clock. I went into school early to get one of my AP exams out of the way. It was time for the falseness. I had to change personalities. I couldn't be the sad, devastated Callie that wanted herself to die because no one cared enough if she did. I had to be the Callie that was cheerful, super-smart, and had no troubles. Good thing I was such an excellent actress.
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