Don't You Forget About Me

.3

My drive home by myself was full of thoughts running around my head. What did Damon mean? I didn't understand what he meant, I was just another emo punk that is anti-social.

When I parked my car out front of my house, I took in a sharp breath petrified of what was to come.
I opened my door and stood up, taking slow and careful steps towards the front door. There was glass covering the sidewalk from bottles being thrown out the door after me when I leave for school in the mornings sometimes.
I cracked the door open, trying to control the creaking of the hinges. It didn't seem to work, because as soon as I walked through the door, I could hear the crying of my father in the kitchen.
I tip-toed past the kitchen and mentally patted myself on the back. I was just about to sprint upstairs when a bottle hit me in the back of my knees and broke. I winced as I fell to my knees on the stairs.
"Where do you think you're going, sweetheart?" My father slurred out.
"I-I was g-going to do m-my homework." I whispered timidly.
He came up behind me and yanked on my elbow, forcing me to stand. I followed his demand, afraid that if I rebelled I would face the consequences.
He whispered in my ear in a drunken voice, "How about you come into the kitchen and fetch me another drink?" He chuckled when my body stiffened. "And maybe if you're good, some food."
I nodded, and let him stumble while he lead me into the kitchen.
He sat himself at the table and pointed towards the liquor cabinet, also known as all the cabinets.
"Get me the strong stuff," he mumbled.
I complied and got out a glass and some vodka. He watched my shaking hands closely as I poured him his drink for the umpteenth time.
I passed him the glass and he sipped it slowly. He smiled once finished, "Good girl. Now how about some dinner?"
I nodded and went to the fridge, pulling out some cheese slices. "Is grilled cheese alright?"
"Make whatever, little b*tch," my father muttered as he went to the living room.
I took out some half decent looking bread, but only found mold on all of the slices. I scraped off the mold with a knife and then got out a frying pan.
I put the buttered bread into the pan, and flipped it every once in a while.
When it was done, I devoured it and went upstairs to finish my homework and hopefully sleep peacefully.