Come Closer...

I've Had Worse...

So I hope you enjoy the first chapter. *Picture of Claudia Williams above*
CLAUDIA'S POV:
"Claudia" Aunt Collins calls from the living room. "Get down here!" I sigh. I wish she'd leave me alone. I trudge down to the living room, where she's sprawled over the sofa, an empty beer can in her hand. She looks as wasted as ever. Her blonde hair's dishevelled and her eyes are bloodshot. She wears a dirty white tank top and blue shorts. I'm disgusted just by looking at her.

"Get me another beer, gurrl" she slurs and I can smell the beer stench on her. I scrunch up my nose and glare at her. No way is she having another beer. I snatch the beer can out of her hands and say,

"No way, Aunt Collins. You've had enough. You should go sleep it off." As I'm about to go away, she grabs my wrist and twists it painfully. "Now you listen here carefully, gurrl. If you think you can order me around here, you're wronggg.... I'll make suree your life is hellll." She twists my wrist more and more to the point that I can't take it anymore. A whimper escapes my mouth and she laughs. She enjoys my pain, that bitch. She shoves me towards the kitchen.

"Get me a can!" I wince and open the fridge. Its filled with beer cans. I toss one to her against my will. She leers at me and pops the can open. She takes a swig and slurs,"Now go get your ass outta here!"

I swear to god, I'll run away from this hellhole as soon as I turn 18... Which by the way is just five months away.

So close. Just wait some more, Claudia... Then you can live away from her, away from her house.

~~~~~~~~

12:18. I peek out my bedroom to check again... The whole house is silent except for the soft sound of Aunt Collins snoring. I tie the laces of my black converse, strap my beloved camera around my neck and haul my bag ( which contains a golden spaghetti dress, stilettos, makeup stuff and house keys ) over my shoulder.

I tiptoe out of the house, making sure to silently close the door. I take out my bike and start towards my destination: the old warehouse 10 miles away from the house.

I do this every Friday. I sneak out the house, ride my bike till the warehouse and sneak into the bathroom just outside it. Then I change into the party get up ( the spaghetti dress and stilettos as of now) and get myself ready. After that I enter the warehouse, which is alive with neon lights, electronic music and stoned teenagers. Yes, its a warehouse party. No, scratch that. Its a weekly warehouse party.

This is the only place I actually feel home and from where I earn my money. No, don't get the wrong idea, I'm not a stripper, I'm a night-time photographer. I capture precious moments and unforgettable memories and post them on my official website... It earns me money and actually gets me clients( yeah I know, clients ). People usually hire me for photoshoots, but I don't particularly like that part. What I love in my job is going to this party and clicking photos for my website. Its hard to explain...

This place is like an escape from my hellish life. My Aunt. And my school. Yes, my school as well. At Silver Cross High, I'm a nobody... Not that I mind that. I'm content with only one friend, Clarissa, and with average grades and with kids having shitty attitudes... I can deal with all of that, but only because I get to come here. This place feels more like home than the actual house I live in.

I finally reach the warehouse and sneak into the washroom. After slipping into my dress and lightly curling my black hair. Then applying concealer to my bruises, mascara, silver eyeshadow and lip gloss, I smile at my reflection.

Picture perfect. Dumping my bag in a spare locker, I walk over to Matt, the bouncer. He's barrel chested and buff, with blond close cropped hair and dark eyes. He can be pretty intimidating to look at, but I've known him for three years, since that's when I first came here. He's actually a big softie once you get to know him; He's almost like a big brother to me.