Dancing In The Sky

Chapter 2

A little while after my mother had died, my father decided to move back into our house. He also decided upon buying multiple drinks for him to keep at the house, which only fueled his addiction and his hatered. He blamed me for my mother killing herself and he blamed me for the way he was. He blamed me for every mistake that he could think of and I was too little to stick up for myself.

That is until I got into high school. My freshmen year we had an assembly all about bullying. The guy went on about how we shouldn't let people push us around. We shouldn't let words get to us and put us down. He told us that we need to stick up for ourselves and that it wasn't going to be easy. But we had to do it.

So that very same day, I went home and I told my dad that I wasn't going to let him hit me or talk to me the way he did. In return, he took me by my hair, dragged me to the basement, hit me a few times and left me down there. He told me I didnt deserve to live. He told me that it should have been me that took my life, not my mother.

As he was walking up the stairs, I felt hot tears run down my face as I was curled up in a ball. I knew there would be a bruise on my cheek where he had hit me and a sore spot on my stomach and shin where he kicked me. But that wasn't was hurt me.

I was more so upset because I felt unloved. And I wasnt sure how to get my father to stop hating me.

As the days went on, I kept hating myself even more. But I also learned to keep to myself. None of my friends at school knew of my home-life except my best friend Esmeralda. She came into my life when I was 10. We met in 5th grade and have been best friends ever since.

We told each other everything. Trusted each other with all that we had. She had my back when I was late to class because of home issues and I had her back when she decided to skip for various reasons.

That brings us to now, the present. My Senior year at Lincoln High. A few weeks before the 11th-year mark of my mothers death. And on that very same day, it happens to be our Home Coming. Yippie.

I have never went to one of the dances here. I thought they were overrated and too many drunken kids were there despite the "strict" No-Alcohol rule. I had some opportunities to go. A few guys asked me to the dance but I always turned them down. They weren't bad guys, or ugly for that matter. I just didnt like dances. Ironic isnt it? A dancer not liking to go to dances.

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I was enjoying a peaceful sleep, for once in my life, when I jolted awake at the sound of my alarm clock going off at 6:30 in the morning.

As I did my daily routine, a thought popped into my groggy, moring brain. Why had I gotten a uninterrupted nights sleep?

As I gathered my keys, bag and jacket, I made my way down stairs after locking my room. Yes I lock my  bedroom door because I do not like my father roaming around in my room while intoxicated.

When I reached the end of the stairs i heard voices coming from the kitchen. A male and a female. My father must have brought another woman home again.

As my hand reached the doorknob, my father slurred a "Where the hell do you think you're going?" from behind me. I froze, turned around and realised he was closer to me than he was a few seconds ago.

"I said where the hell do you think you are going, bitch?" my father slurred. I glanced behind him to see the woman whose voice I must have heard standing by the end of the hall, wearing my dads shirt. Thats when I saw that he was in nothing but his boxers. His stomach sticks out due to his lack of exercise and his dirty blonde hair was tangled in a mess on top of his head. His breath smelled of beer and cigarettes.

"To school. Its Monday morning. I didnt mean to interrupt you." I said while not looking at him and clutching my bag to my chest.

"Stay the fuck out of the house for the rest of the day. Me and Michelle are gonna be busy in here." he slapped my face in a way that was threatening but didnt hurt. "Unless you want to join us." my father said with a sick grin on his face.

I shoved him backword. "You are my father! Why in hell would I want to join in on your fucking perverted-" I was cut off by my back hitting the door and my father's hand around my neck while he pressed against me. 

"Dont you ever put your fucking hands on me again or else I will kill you myself. Got it, whore?" I nodded. "Get the fuck out of my damn face."

I fumbled with the doorknob for a second before I finally managed to open the door and flea towards my beaten up old car.

Where was I going to go after school? I dont have practice until 6. Meaning I will have 4 hours to kill. Maybe I'll go to Esmeralda's. Or I'll visit granddad. I don't know. All I know is that anywhere is better than home. I could be sitting in a jail cell and feel more safer than in a house with that damn man.

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I'm sorry its not that interesting right now. But every book's beginning is a little slow!!