He Changed Me.

This is my first ever story, so tell me what you think and if people actally like it, i'll write more :)

Constructive criticsim welcomed. No hate plz Cx 

(NO PROOF READING DONE SORRY!)

CHAPTER ONE

I crouched down then skid to my left on my knees, just missing his hit and ripping my skinny jeans as the gravel dragged arcoss them under my wieght. His face crunched up in anger at his failed punch and his hands balled into fists at his sides. I put my hands behind me then swipped my left leg forward, hitting him behind the knees causing them to buckle and start to fall forward. With my other leg, i brought it up and kicked him in the face. I heard the loud crunching noise of his nose being broken. Blood sprayed up as his head cracked backwards and he body fell to the ground with a loud thump. He looked pretty unconcious to me, but just to be sure... i stood up and edged my way to his limp body. His head was to the side so the blood dripped down his cheek and off his chin, creating a small pool a blood by his shoulder. i smirked and went to turn around, but an hand shot out and went to grab my ankle. I immidately jumped back, dodging his grab, pulling back my leg and hitting him with as much force as i could muster. His head snapped sideways and this time, his body stayed limp.

I slammed my locker shut, taking out my anger on it. Better it than my Art teachers face. Stupid bitch paired me with dipshit blond bobble head. Art was one of my favourite subjects and she just went and ruined it for me. I punched my locker.

"OW FUCK!" I jumped up and down clutching my fist with my good hand, well aware that right now i probably looked like a idiot.

"URGH!" I sighed in frustration. "First the teacher pairs with a blond whore who wears more makeup than a prostitute and wears so much purfume, im probably going to choke and die by the end of the week, AND NOW my locker is trying to brake my god damn hand!" i say through gritted teeth and start shaking my hand "Great now im talking to myself..." I mumble then let a loud fustrated sigh out of my nose.

I glanced up my locker. Fuck, Not again. A large dent in the middle of my locker made the bottom corner stick out. Fuck... Wasn't me... I glaced around the hall. No one saw it, so no one can prove it. I smirked and threw my anarchy shoulder bag on. Time to go find Rocky, my best friend. We've been together since diapers and we plan on being still together when we're back in them but this time, in an old persons home. 

My locker gets broken all the time. Me and my anger managment problems, well thats what my coucillor says. Fighting in the ring helps alot i guess. When im in the ring... i just take all my anger out against my opponent. It sure helps more than my freaking mum. She thinks she knows whats best for me. But as far as im concerned, she has no right to have a say in anything in my life. She broke down when dad left us 7 years ago. Im glad that bastard left us. All he ever did was hurt our family.

Once apon a time our family was happy, mum the perfect house wife, dad the hard working father and Danny the awesome big brother. Then one day he came home drunk from work. He started going on about how he was fired and breaking things around the house. Mum tried to calm him down... and then he did something i never thought my father would ever do, he slapped her, About three times while she tried to calm him. I remember watching with wide eyes as he stumbled over to where i stood in the hallway. He slapped me and yelled at me to go to bed. I remember Danny running in and seeing me on the floor, my lip bleeding and dad leaning over me with a hateful gaze. Danny beat the crap out of him and told him to leave and never come back, and till this day he hasn't. That night shattered our perfect family image. 

Mum hardly spoke or ate when he left, let alone even feed me. So Danny took care of me most of the time. But eventually it became to much work for him, so we left to stay with out aunt in New jersey while mum sorted herself out.