Forced

Another Day of Hell (Chapter 1)

I woke up to annoying ring of my alarm clock, telling me to get my lazy ass out of bed.

The bright sun of Los Angeles shone through the dark curtains of my bedroom.

I wondered what hell my dad would be putting me through today. Even before my mom passed away, he was like this.

To tell you the truth, he's the reason why my mom died. She killed herself because of his natural beatings. She was skin and bones, I knew at just a young age what the real world was like.

I got up, and got dressed into the limited amount of clothes I had, which wasn't a lot.

I couldn't get a job, and my dad never took me anywhere, and if I tried to sneak out, I'd be sorry if I tried, knowing he'd catch me somehow.

I trudged down the stairs to see my dad laying on the couch fast asleep, beer bottle in one hand, TV remote slowly slipping out of the other.

I tiptoed into the kitchen, hoping maybe I could get some food into my stomach finally, but just as I opened the fridge, it was shut tight.

"What are you doing?" My dad hissed, his breath reeking of alcohol. "I-I." He cut me off by slapping me hard across the face, shoving me to the fridge.

"Shut up! We have, guests coming over today, be ready." He smirked, and walking away, slapping my ass.

I guess food wasn't the greatest option in this house.