When I was a little girl, all I wanted to be was a ballerina. I never took a lesson, but my heart was set on dancing for the rest of my life.
These days, I just dream of making it through the day. All I wanted now was to turn back time to when my biggest concern was what I would wear that day or whether or not the boys would chase me around on the playground at school.
It all started when my mom died of cancer when I was 14. Everyone was devastated, but nobody took it worse than my dad. Soon after her death, he began drinking. At first, it was just normal; one or two bottles before bed. Slowly, but surely, two bottles turned into three, which turned into five which turned into me coming home to him passed out on the kitchen floor. Which I guess was better than hearing his sobs and cries when he thought I couldn't hear him through the paper thin walls. I wish all of that was the worst of it. About a year after it all started, I came home to him one day and he was awake. Instead of him crying as he usually did, he was in an angry rage.
"You did this," he muttered under his breath. I stood just past the door frame as my heart began to thud louder and louder, I was surprised he didn't hear it. "Dad, how much did you drink?" I stuttered, trying to stay calm, but not fully succeeding, the worry and panic seeping through my voice. Instead of an answer he stomped closer to me, his feet thudding dully on the hardwood floors. I turn my head away to avoid having to drink in his liquor-scented breath. My head turned towards the living room where I saw the earlier effects of his anger. Tables turned over, the television screen smashed, and the clock was in a million pieces throughout the room. I took a deep breath and turned to face the man I no longer recognized."Dad I k-" my words were soon cut short as his hand struck across my face. My face began to tingle and slowly faded to a throbbing pain. "Look at you" he slurred. "Weak and small. Not like Eleanor. She was stronger than you. Stronger than the both of us. You've made me this way and now, you'll feel the pain I've had for the past 3 damn years" He looked at me from head to toe before turning on his heels and making his way toward the stairs leading to his room.
YOU ARE READING
Dreaming of Tomorrow (on hold)
Teen FictionMeet Autumn. She's funny, friendly, and smart. A sad girl left alone in the world. The death of her mother has left her father heartbroken and angry at the world. As the years have gone by, he has taken out this anger on Autumn. After stumbling upon...
