The Scrapbook

Take Me Away: Chapter 8

"Damn," I sighed. "That b-...chick, got to me..."

"Annabelle! Get up!"

"I am up!"

"No, you're awake! Get out of bed and get ready!"

"No!"

"What was that?" she yelled. She swung my door open without hesitation and started screaming at me. "Do not make me repeat myself. Get up."

"No," I said.

"Why the hell not?"

"Cause I don't want to go to school..."

"And you think I want to feed you? Get your lazy ass up and get to school, god dammit!"

"No!"

"Get up you ungrateful brat," she said. She took ahold of my hair, dragged me out of my bed, and lugged me into the living room.

"Ow! What the hell was that for?"

"You're disobeying me," she scowled.

"So? What are you gonna do about it?" I spat. I gave her a smug smirk and started to head back to my room; then she tugged on my hair again.

"This is what I'm gonna do about it," she said with a low, gravelly voice.

She dragged me back and wrapped my hair around her hand a few times just to make sure she had a good grip on me. Once she knew her hand was secure in my locks, she crashed my head into the dry wall. I let out a loud cry as wood and nails broke my nose and cut my face. She pulled me back and flashed me a arrogant smirk.

"Ready to apologize?" she chuckled. I glanced over my shoulder so we were now making intense eye contact; I narrowed me eyes and spat some blood on her face.

"I hate you," I mumbled.

"The feeling is mutual," she smiled. She kicked the back of my knee so I tumbled to the blood ridden ground; the grip on my hair only tightened as I fell. I was now being held up by my wobbly knees and mom holding my head up. She knelt down next to me and whispered, "This is your last chance Annabelle. Apologize."

"No," I weakly said.

"Suit yourself."

She tightened her grip once more before she slammed my face into the already cracked floor boards. I let out a piercing scream for help as she repeatedly banged my head into the blood covered floor; with each bash, my vision became hazy and my mind started to go blank. Eventually, my body couldn't take anymore; that was the last thing I remembered before I saw Soul.

***

"Derek!" mom yelled.

"What?" he grumbled. He walked into the living room, still hungover from the night before. He entered the room and was immediately taken aback by my unconscious body on the floor. "Michelle, what the hell did you do?"

"I was done with her shit," she mumbled. "Ungrateful bitch," she frowned. She looked over to me and spat on my immobile body.

"So you killed her?" he panicked.

"Oh please, I didn't kill her," she rolled her eyes. She bent down, stuck her fingers on my neck and tried to find my pulse. "I got something," she sighed. "Told you she wasn't dead."

"Why on earth would you do this?"

"She was disrespecting me and I wasn't gonna stand for her disobedience anymore. She had to be taught a lesson. Don't worry, she'll wake up in a few hours."