One moonlit night, I sat near the creek, hoping to leave reality behind. At least for awhile. The gentle running water glistened in the moon's bright light. My mother soon called me back to the kitchen to clean supper's dishes. I groaned. "Welcome back to reality," I muttered. It was almost two in the morning before I got to lay down. That meant I only had four hours to sleep.
It was a sleep-filled night. I woke up, got dressed, and went to the kitchen to get breakfast ready. My father was already up. He claims that breakfast should've been ready an hour ago. He was clearly already drunk. I made his eggs baring through his painful remarks. I ran to my secret spot at the creek. I decided to not eat because I "wasn't hungry." I was actually starving but was too upset to eat.
My tears probably could've flooded the creek but I held them back. If my father caught me crying, I'd be given a whoopin'. I slowly sat up, got to my feet, and walked home down the blood red road.
