A Rebel's Scars

DissaFEAR

AN: Well this is the very first thing I have ever published on Wattpad and I'm super excited! I hope you guys really like it because I honestly do. I don't know exactly when I will update but you can check my twitter and tumblr for info when I do! Okay that's it... Happy reading!! xo- Maddie

There's tiny little moments in life that you like to savour. Such as, hugging someone, or eating a really good meal, or falling asleep in the sun (remembering to put on sunscreen, of course). Or maybe walking up and stretching, sunlight steaming through the windows, except sometimes you don't want to savour these moments. Sometimes there's just one little problem that makes them a little less enjoyable.

Like the alarm going off at 6 am in Brynn's room. And the fact that it was a Monday, so there was school. And where there was school, for Brynn at least, there were people, the ones that made fun of her and bullied her, but it's not like the staff actually paid attention.

Even if they did, they wouldn't do anything about it.

It's okay though. Brynn liked the independence, the feeling of actually getting to do things for herself, her own way. As she got dressed, pulling on her black skinny jeans, she made she decision to skip class. Nobody ever came looking for her, so she was never found by anyone.

She knew she was different that the other kids. Her music taste, things she liked to do, and fashion choices were things that made her differ from everyone else. Living in a little town with the nearest mall being almost a half hour away, and as many cemeteries and churches as there were tiny, run down pubs, people didn't respect her as much as she would have liked. Sure, Brynn believed in God, and all that fine stuff, but she wasn't as religious as the other people in her town. They all told her that she was going to Hell, but by her calculations, she was already adjusted to the accommodations in her stay.

She walked over to her closet pulling out her old Green Day shirt, the letters on the front fading, and the black color starting to become a dark grey, and pulled it over her head. She ran a brush through her medium-length black hair and opened her grey-green eyes wide as she applied a fair amount of eyeliner and mascara. She walked into the kitchen finding her mother sitting at the table with heavy bags under her eyes, staring at her coffee.

"Hey," Brynn mumbled, not showing any emotion in her voice. She could feel the depression and anxiety radiating off of her mother as if she were trying to heat the whole kitchen, as a reminder of the bills and debt that had to be payed off, but mostly because of her dad.

Well not quite a dad.

When he wasn't in jail, he could be better described as an addict, out all night and coming back during the day, just to unleash the anger that the drugs manipulated his brain to create. It seemed like the broken lamps, chairs, and dishes represented how broken their family was. He would come home in a rage and destroy everything and anything in his path, and that included Brynn and her mom. She still had a large scar running down from the top of her waist to the bottom of her hip.

Recalling the memory, she could see her dad stumbling through the door, beads of sweat running down his forehead and his clothes reeking of alcohol. He tripped over the small coffee table in the living room, knocking over the antique vase that once belonged to her mother's great-aunt. He then bent down to pick up one of the pieces, throwing it at the wall of the kitchen where Brynn was eating dinner. Her mom, being upstairs and asleep, had no knowledge of the events occurring right below her. Brynn's reflexes reacted quickly, running over to the fridge and squeezing her small, 11-year-old body in between the wall and the fridge, shielding herself from her destructive father. 

When she heard no more noise, she slowly ducked her head out from behind the fridge, and saw nobody, but she was wrong. As she was tip-toeing over to the stairwell that lead to her bedroom, she heard a mean voice.