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Hannah
"My room is so quiet and empty it hurts."
― Nina LaCour, Hold Still
Love is not blind. And it definitely not reaching into somebody's chest and twisting a heart till the person is drowning in one's own pool of bloody thoughts. Well, I wasn't the one to sugarcoat things or run behind someone's back. So it wasn't a shock that I expected when I told my father I was leaving, the dinner table turned upside down. The only fact that bothered me was the wasted food. And there was some lovely apple pie for dessert.
Only that did not happen, I was just met with a blank stare from my father and then a soft, "Fine, whatever."
It was the alcohol talking,as always. My mother was three streets down. To be precise she was three streets down in a closed compound, in a wooden box. Six feet under.Her dear friends, Jack Daniels, Absolout and Marijuana had taken her there. Owing to the facts my parents were never really my parents and the only other friend I had was my bookshelf, it didn't surprise me that my father decided to burn them to the ground when I returned home thenext day. Anger coursed through me, but I clamped it down as always. I simply walked up to his room. Father was passed out on the couch, I quietly strolled through the corridor and I took his dear friends out to the backyard where my books had become a bonfire party, and smashed the bottles.
I calmed myself before whispering, "You're Hannah frickin' Mc.Showlders, you have the world waiting ahead of you. And one day, the world waiting for you at your feet"
Quickly heading back in I kept the crisp envelope on the dinner table, while I set the table. A table for one. Grabbing the duffle bags I headed for my car, something I earned on my own. I drove without stopping till I was three towns over. It was only then when I looked back and laughed. I had left my father part of the cash I had been saving up since I was sixteen. It wasn't like he didn't earn. But I didn't want to be in debt. So I gave him a small amount, as a token of gratitude for bringing me into this world, and nothing more. Or so I thought. The rest of the money was for my journey and my life ahead.
But the thing that got me laughing was my letter to my father. It wasn't anything deep or lengthy. Just a dream put in words. And words I knew that would get to him. He hated everything I did. Watched, read or anything of the sort. So I'd made sure I used words I knew that would hit him.
Hannah Mc.Showlders
CEO of MIC
Saving people, hunting things.
Free at last.
Things to do:
1)Meet famous people
2)Live
3) Find Food.
4) Find Books
5) Find a Friend.
6)Be famous
7) Start a crappy band
P.S. : list should not be followed in chronological order.
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D I M I T R I A N N A H
Teen Fiction{Ongoing} Story of two runaways, trying to make themselves perfect for the world, ending up making a world perfect for themselves. Dimitria Diamandi is tired of being pampered around, when she knows nobody really cares for her. The only reason th...
