Gina's POV
My dad charges at me with a bottle of beer in his hand.
"Don't talk to me like that again," he grunts in my face.
He leans his face close to mine and shows his teeth. I feel his hot breath against me. His breath reeks of alcohol.
"Get off of me," I push him away.
He pushes me against a wall. "Don't tell me what to do," he barks at me.
I lean my face as far away from him as I can get. "I'm trying to help you! Can't you see! Look at you! You came home drunk and I was trying to help!" I cry out to him.
His eyes waver, but he doesn't move. He puts his forearm on my neck and starts pushing. I claw at his arm as I start to lose oxygen.
"Stop," I try and shout, but it comes out as a squeak.
He pushes one last time and then pulls his arm away. I fall to my hands and knees breathless. I look up at him with tears in my eyes.
I miss my old dad. The one who would come home asking if I wanted to play catch with him. The one who would walk into the kitchen all happy-go-lucky and dance around with my mom. Problem is, my mom is gone. That's when he changed.
"Get out of here!" He yells, pointing upstairs.
I get up, holding my throat. I give him one last look and run upstairs to my room. This is my life. It happens nearly everyday.
I run into my room and slam the door shut. I collapse onto my bed and cry silently to myself.
"I need you mom," I whisper into oblivion.
***
I shouldn't even be crying right now. This is my life. It happens all the time. I should be used to it.
But I'm not.
And I don't think I ever will be.
That's why I need to get out of here.
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A/N
Hey! Thanks for giving this a shot!
