Hey peeps im so sorry i havent updated in friggen years so heres some chapters ive been writing while i was waiting for others to finish their exams. Is it a good thing i finished early? id say yes because ive written two lovely chapters. Oh and i did write a chapter a couple of weeks ago but my computer crashed right as i said save and publish. xx
"Hurry up, you lazy mutt".
"Well im sorry dad but i can't help the fact the oven is absolute shit." i said, already annoyed at the fact Dad has to be all shitty at me because a bloody chicken is taking longer to cook than his meth.
"You sure are on fire Ophelia aren't you?" Dads tone was a spicy concoction of good and evil.
"The oven will be soon," I barked.
"Well hurry up, me and the boys have the munchies!" As Dad ordered, his mates turned around, all with familiar purple boils on their face.
"Shouldn't take crack then!" I snarled.
"You can't tell me what to do you ignorant child!" He shrieked.
"For your information Dad, i'm actually a young adult,"
"Whatever dummy, just get our dinner!" His voice was razor sharp, and the razors just sliced my wrists.
That was it. I was boiling hot and it was time for the kettle to 'bing' to signal the fact it had reached 100 degrees.
"Why don't you get off your fat lazy ass and get it yourself then? According to you, i'm not good enough! What ever i do is never bloody good enough is it? What ever i say, whatever i make, whatever i portray. Never. Any. Good. I let the words trail off while i looked at his scars across his face. I pulled the half cooked chicken out and threw it in the bin.
"What the hell are you doing? What did you just throw out?" Dad yelled from the loungeroom of our open plan house.
"Your dinner, asshole"
I heard the floorboards creak louder and louder as he stormed into the kitchen. He grabbed the hot tray that the chicken was cooked in, and threw it like a discus. The discus was aimed at my face. It hit the bridge of my nose, pain shot through me like a rock flying through a window. I fell backwards, the tin going down with me. The hot edges tore up my forehead like someone drawing in the sand. red tears fell down my burning cheeks, so much pain, and so much hurt. The razor was back, this time it cut me deeper than usual, and blood poured out like a chocolate fondue. I said nothing. I simply looked at him, as he scratched his arms and rubbed his bloodshot eyes.
