If you think you're free, there's no escape possible. ~Ram Dass
We were moving from the life I once had. I was so happy I could have cried. I didn't fit in at my old school, but I was accross the country. I was in a new state with new people. I was moving to Brunswick, Virginia. It'll be really different than the city I grew up in. I was always a big nature person, and this was pretty far out comparitively. I'd be going to Brunswick High.
"Eric Daniel Godwin! Are you listening to me?!" stepmom yelled from the bottom of the steps.
I got up, and went down the steps to her. I hated my stepmom, in fact, I still hate her. I hoped she would hurry up and die or something. She acted like she was my mom. She wasn't and never will be my mom. Her puffed out black hair was flying across her head. She had black eyes. Her skin is sickly white, and her sick personality goes right with it. She isn't sick. She acts like it for dad, so she doesn't have to work. I know what really wrong with her though, she put cleaners in her soup. I think it's because she wants people to pity her. When I was younger she used to cut my wrists, she would tell my dad later what she found me doing. I know it sounds bizarre, but think about it. To get pity she'd cut my wrists, and look like a sick sad mom with a depressed kid. Also she overreacted to lots of things and inevitabley had gotten me in trouble with minor stuff.
"Eric, why do you have straight "A"s on your report card?" she glared.
She wanted me to be dumb. She always had. She used to burn my homework, and blame me. She wanted a dumb depressed kid, so she could spend all her time at home 'helping' him, or just sitting on her lazy butt. I had lots of useless therapy telling me I was a normal kid just smarter than my age. When I was twelve, she destroyed my science fair project on plant hormones. I worked for weeks on that project, and she ripped all my work up, and here comes more anger management therapy. Luckily, I had a laptop back then and my work was saved on there.
"Eric, I'm asking you something." She demanded.
"I ace my tests, Veronica. I'm not stupid like you." I said disgustedly. Wrong move on my part. She punched me in my stomach, and I couldn't breathe. She hated to be called dumb or stupid the most. She couldn't handle it. She had a superiorty complex, or something else. She just hated being inferior. Dad called her strong willed.
Veronica wanted me to have lots of problems, so she could take care of me. She probably thought it would bring us close. I never wanted to be close to her. The thought repulsed me. It was disgusting .
"I hope you end up in the same place your mom did, faggy whore." she too gleefully the cold morning sun shining upon her face.
"My mom may have been a whore, but at least my dad loved her, and she was never a drag queen like you." I said in the same tone as I stepped of the stairs and into the morning's golden light.
She was about to 'punish' me a.k.a. punch me, when dad walked in the door which let in more light into our already brightly lit room. Veronica collasped to the ground holding her stomach crying as if I just punched her. She over dramatized it in my opinion, but not in dad's.
"What the hell Eric?! You should know better by now!" my dad yelled. I winced in response.
Veronica had gotten what she wanted once again. A quick smile played accross her lips, and I could have puked. I was utterly repulsed. If Veronica was going to start up her act, I would show her up with mine.
"Dad, I'm sorry. I was just so angry, she told me I cheated to get my grades. I don't cheat," I cried, "You know that! How I despise it so much! Remember last time I tried to!"
