Pulled inside

Chapter one-

Chapter one--

The sun rises smooth and golden over a frosty morning,casting it's cool glow over everything in the garden. My eyes are still half open,struggling to make sense of the world at this hour in the morning, my house and garden simply a blur. I stumble down the path and out of the gate, clutching my toast in one hand and textbooks in the other, feet pounding clumsily on the pavement.

My mouth stretched involuntarily into a huge yawn and i chuckled under my breath; Beth and i had had yawning contests when we were younger, seeing who could yawn the longest and loudest,and i'd nearly always won. I tugged at my eyelids,pulling them open against the harsh morning sun,somewhat shocked at how bright it was for a day in mid november,and crossed the main road to the bus stop, only pausing to drop my lightly charred breakfast into a bin on the way.

"Hey there sleepyhead," giggled Kate when she saw me coming,"Looking good." I rolled my eyes back into my head and quickly checked my reflection in my phone screen. Passable. "Yeah,yeah," i sighed,"You know full well i only woke up about half an hour ago..." Kate's laugh was clear and high,yet sweet all at once,the delicate tones bouncing off the bus shelter walls. We'd only known eachother for a few months but she was nice,and we got along ok. Our friendship was nothing more than seeing eachother at the bus stop every morning,but it was good enough for her and more than good enough for me.  "So," i yawned,"What's the news?" I knew she had something to say from the way her thin legs twitched excitedly,and how she kept licking her lips slightly.

Kate grinned. "I got the part!" she squealed,referring to the production of Oliver at the community theatre,which she'd auditioned for a few weeks back. "Oh,well done,Kate!" I'd never really been interested in theatre,or makeup,or boy,or phones. I only really took enjoyment in books. My friends thought i was a complete weirdo but to be fair i barely even hung out with them anymore. Me and Beth were best friends for twelve years and in the space of a month she cast me aside in favour of Lotty and Rose; some best friend. I smiled and nodded as Kate gave a dramatic recount of discovering that she had been cast as Oliver,instead imagining what adventures i'd go on that night,what far off worlds i'd visit,which mad,bad and sad characters i'd meet.

The low rumble of an engine snapped me back to attention as or bus pulled up in front of me. I pulled my books tighter to my chest and tried to appear unassuming(not a particularly difficult task, given who I was) as I climbed aboard and took a seat alone. I felt the slight tremble below me as we jerked into motion but didn't hear a thing with my headphones in, music turned up to an ear splitting volume. I only knew three people on the entire bus, two of which I knew only from classes, and the other was Kate, who, in my opinion, hardly counted. Forced interaction didn't count as a friend exactly.

After we'd arrived in school I took my place in the form room; my chair in the corner left completely undisturbed and unwanted. It welcomed me back like an old friend as I flicked through my book to find my page, subconsciously aware of the classroom around me. Beth,Lotty and Rose sat on the group of tables in the middle,completely caked in foundation and mascara, obviously under the(false)impression that it made them look good. I could hear them whining on and on about how many likes their current profile picture had and how many followers they had on twitter; stuff I frankly couldn't care less about. Carmen and Dahlia stood by the window talking to Nick outside the form room, twirling the ends of their over straightened hair round their fingertips in a bid to win his attention. With a sigh I closed my book once more. I'm never going to be able to get into it with all these around me. My eyes were still a little blurry as I rubbed them against my palms, focusing on the swirls and rippling lights I created.

"Uh, what are you doing?" A nasally voice interrupted my train of thought; one I knew only too well. I pulled my hands away from my eyes and sure enough there stood Lotty Drake in all her glamorous 'glory'. "Rubbing my eyes..." I replied stonily, raising my eyes to meet hers. She sneered, flicking her fake blonde hair over her shoulder, hand firmly glued to her hip. "That's so weird. Can't you, like, update your facebook status or something?" I pushed my eyebrows up in a look of utter contempt. "Wow, Lotty, that's a fabulous idea!" I grinned, "If only I had facebook."

Lotty seemed to visibly think this over for a moment, her lips parted in a look of confusion, then decided that I wasn't worth talking to and returned to her slaves. It was just the same old morning, day after day after day, with nothing worth doing. My stomach churned a little and I began to regret throwing my toast away. I let out a tiny sigh and took a seat to wait for our form tutor.

The day passed as normal. Slow, dull and boring. So when I parted ways with Kate at the top of Bawnmore road, I quickened my pace and hurried home. My room was untouched from the morning, my shoes all lined up neatly on the shelf with the clothes hung on the rail below. I kicked off my boots and flopped onto my unmade bed. The duvet hugged my body, practically perfectly arranged from when I last left it. I tugged it closer round my legs and unfolded the corner of my page, relishing the crisp feel of the paper and the fresh smell swirling around my nostrils. My favourite character was caught in a deep emotional dilemma; did he protect his own world or the human world in which he had been brought up? I smiled a tiny smile and let myself be absorbed by the book, reading on and on for hours, not noticing the sun sinking outside my window. When it grew cold I wrapped myself up tighter under my blanket, when I got hungry I broke into my food stash in my bedside table. I'd built it up so that whenever I was reading I had something to eat, but it wasn't a substitute for an actual meal.

It was hardly unusual for me to not be called down to dinner, but it always surprised me for some odd reason. It wasn't like I usually was. My parents didn't really seem to care whether I ate or not most of the time. My mum was usually at work and my dad was, more often than not, watching the TV  we couldn't really afford. I sighed and carefully folded the corner of my page, then traipsed  downstairs.

"Hey.." I called softly, knowing that if I disturbed either of my parents i'd be in for it. "Hi..." No reply. The droning of the TV itched my nerves, combining with the snuffling sounds of my dad eating to create a vile soundtrack. I padded to the doorway of the living room and peered inside at my dad, laying on the sofa in his tracksuit bottoms and a vest which probably hadn't been washed for years. The foul stench of beer, feet and sweat clung to him like glue as he stuffed crisps into his wide, rotting mouth.

"Hey dad." I said just loud enough for him to hear. His head turned to face me, his lips twisted into a disgusted sneer. "You came home, then." he grunted, "Came to leech even more off me, did you?" The familiar twisting feeling began in my stomach. I knew where this was going and I didn't like it one bit. He set down his beer can and I saw the dull shine on his eyes as he stared straight at me. "You always want, but you never give. I'm ashamed to call myself your father." he slurred. I took a step backwards towards the door, terrified of what he was going to say this time. "You should just go! Go and live out on the streets, see what I care. Wouldn't even give you a penny on my way to the shops. Spit on your face!" I took in a few shaky breaths, appalled at this vile sight before me, this vile man that was my father. Too often this happened and it was getting worse, but my mother wouldn't do anything about it.

"Uh...." I began, but he wouldn't let me. "You just take all my food and you never give me anything! You don't deserve any of this. I give you a good life and how do you repay me? You sit up in that bedroom, reading, all your life!" He was shouting now and I felt the tears springing up into my eyes; despite all this he was my father and I loved him. I didn't want to love him. I wanted to hate him but I just couldn't. I nodded my head and hurried out of the room and upstairs to my bedroom, trying desperately to ignore the foul comments he was yelling after me.

I collapsed onto my bed and pounded my fists into the mattress, my angry, terrified tears soaking the bedspread. Every word is like a blow to the head. I'm so scared he'll hit me. One day he will. And I can't do anything about it. In a way, I was like the character in my book. Was I meant to fight for myself, or for my father? I didn't even know anymore.