We are one (#Wattys2016)

Chapter 4

Tris POV
I walk into my old house. It's cold because my father hasn't paid the heating bill. My mother sits on the table smoking some thing. I don't know what she was smoking , anything. I just got in from a long night of raiding houses. I got my friends into being thief's.
"What did you get me?" The low voice asks. I throw him my backpack. We raided about 3 houses tonight. Then after we've finished we split the loot. I get to pick what I want because they understand that if I don't get him what he wants the punishment will be a lot worse. I wait as he searches my bag. I gets up and walks over to me. I back away and start to shake. No. No. No. He grabs me by my hoodie and pretty much a lifts off the ground.
"Is this all you got me!" He spits
"No I had to share it with my friends. I picked the things I thought would be the most valuable." I choke. I think I'm about 13.
"Well your wrong!" He yells and slaps me across the face.
"Your always wrong!" He yells and slaps me across the face. I got him over 200 dollars worth of stuff. Maybe if he'd get off his arse and get a job. Instead of making me steal everynight. Instead of getting drunk, angry and high every night. Maybe instead of spending all our money on liquor and drugs! My life would be a lot nicer.
"Dad your drunk!" I choke. The words just slip out without me meaning to say it. I have my scars like tattoos already on my body.
"Your a mistake and never meant to happen!" He yells and punches me in the face. I feel my face start to bruise already. Look over to the clock. It's 2:00 in the morning.
"you know what we do to people in this house when they can't do what their told!" Almost screams at me. The smell of alcohol fogs my nose. No, please! He grabs the knife from the counter from the counter. He digs the knife in my arm. I scream. The loudest scream I can. Blood drips onto the floor.
" come on, can you a least do it in the brats bedroom?" My 'mother' says
"No. Please. Don't. Do. It" I muster. Through breathes.
"You deserve this." He spits and shoves me into my bedroom. I scream again...
I sit bolt up right. Everything stings. It felt so real. Well that's because it was real. It wasn't a dream. It was a memory. I pant there for a few minutes. I just need to clear my head. I grab my hoodie. Put on my combat boots. I open the window and start to see the light of sunrise. I look at my new alarm clock. 4:32 in the morning. I need to be back by six. I climb out of my window and shimmy down the pipe. I look around and see that the lamps are becoming dimmer. I walk down the street to. I find a park and take a seat on a bench. I pull out my tatty old MP3 player. I flick through the songs. None of them are new. I stole it from this house once. I never gave to my dad because I just wanted to have something to keep for my own. I didn't really have any possessions. Most of my clothes were from a charity shop as my family couldn't afford any thing else.
O-Oh Child comes on. It gets to the chorus.
Oh-oo child
things are gonna get easier
Oh-oo child
Things are gonna get brighter
Oh-oo child
Thing'll get easier
Oh-oo
Thing'Ll get brighter.
I believe in the words. Well I don't know. I've gotten away from my mother and father. The people who claim to be my parents. I got into juvenile prison. My life didn't seem too good there. I went to the foster home. I got fostered by too families and got kicked out by both families and schools. My life wasn't too good there either. I don't know whether my life has all been good. These people are probably doing it for the money. That's what the others did it for. The only reason my real family kept me and didn't throw me out was because of the financial benefits. I run my hand through my hair. The girls don't like me because of my past. Christina just seems to hate me. They made fun of the way I look. I didn't cry. I don't cry any more. If my father or juvenile centre taught me was not to cry because it shows weakness. I don't cry any more because I can't. I feel some hand land on my shoulder. I don't see who it is. I just punch them in the face. The hand grip my hoodie.
"Woah what was that for?!" A low gruff says. Tobias.