The Homeless Boy

491 12 7
                                    

"Honey, why don't you go try school again tomorrow?"

Mom you're funny.

Memories of last weeks school trip hit me like a whale. It was dreadful to go to a building with your ex friends, ex boyfriend, old crushes, academic stress, and memories of your mistakes were waiting.

"No." I answered bluntly before slamming my bedroom door shut.

"Ivy!" My mom howled, "stop being a brat, you can't stay in your room forever!" her voiced cracked at the end and I giggled.

I already tried life, it didn't work out. But that's ok, I love my room. I am well aware that it's not healthy so there's no need for so much scolding. I'm not really sure what to do about my future, maybe I'll travel to Sweden, free college. Then I'll go make my own bakery? Become a vet? I guess I like cats, and everyone loves food anyways. I'm not sure, that was what my friends in eighth grade wanted to do, I wonder if they still want to do those things. I wonder if their personalities changed...

I plopped on my bed then sighed. Whatever. They're doing their own things now.

"Hey!" My father's booming voice opened my bedroom door. Now I can manage my mom, dad, and sister. Keeping them distant and out of my hair. But I am a hopeless puppy when is comes to my dad when he's drunk.

He doesn't drink too often, but when he does, Daddy really drinks.

The smell of alcohol penetrated my nose. I peered at him with the top two buttons of his work clothes undone, revealing a hickey or two on his neck.

"How dare you skip four days of school. In a row!" He held onto my door frame for support. "Fourrrrr." He slurred.

Sitting up, I kept a grip on my bedsheets. I needed to hold onto something. "Uh, listen Dad, I'll go tomorrow ok? I'm sorry. Are we good?"

My dad suddenly looked hurt, "Why can't you be more like your sister?"

I sighed then rolled my eyes as far back as possible.

"She has straight As, honor roll!" He paused then glared at me, "And perfect attendance."

"Yeah dad, sure, I'll try to be like her. Your favorite daughter."

"She even has a really cute boyfriend."

"Dad." My voice quivered. The word boyfriend really got to me nowadays. "I get it. You hate me."

"Not completely," he hiccuped, "you have a talent of being the troubled child. An annoying brat. A lazy ass."

Thanks old man. The upsetting part was that I figured out he was an honest drunk. What he was saying right now was what he has always been thinking. What everyone around me was thinking. I guess I could have a better attitude about everything but-

"Get out!" I screamed.

"Is someone pmsing? I smell someone with a little extra attitude." my sister grinned as she walked pass my bedroom window. She just had to come at the wrong time.

"Get out! Leave me alone! I'd be much happier without any of you! I wish you weren't my family! Just go away!" I spat.

My dad shook my head, "After all I've done for you, that's what you say to me?"

I nodded with wet eyes then weakly attempted to push him out.

He stood like a rock.

"You have no idea what I sacrificed for you! Why are you such a twit?" He slapped my face.

It wasn't hard, it only stung for a second. But it was enough for him to walk out of my room muttering, "Spoiled brat..."

I huffed loudly. I swear these people, I thought as I slammed my bedroom door shut. My bucket list that I hung on my bedroom door fluttered down to the ground in two pieces.

The Homeless Boy at my WindowWhere stories live. Discover now