On Purpose

Chapter 1:

"Hi."

My eyes examined the dirt in between the tiles on the floor, ignoring the friendly greeting. I let the small convenient store absorb my attention as the cashier rang up my brushes. So many people had walked through this tiny aisle and paid too much money for things they didn't really need.

I rubbed my arm trying to shoo away the thoughts that echoed in my head.

"Ma'am?"

I looked up, avoiding eye contact and instead studied the plastic name tag on the woman's shirt which read Shirley.

"You're total is $9.76."

My head nodded briskly as I handed her a crumpled up 10 dollar bill. She counted back my change in dimes, nickels, and pennies. I slid the coins in my pocket quickly before grabbing my bag and leaving the small shop.

My hands played with the plastic straps of the bag as my feet started walking in the direction of my house.

Or should I say limping.

The humid air blew heavily on my skin as I struggled down the sidewalk. By the time I got home it would be 3pm which meant Dylan would still be at baseball practice.

As I turned down the street towards my house people in cars passed by. Every now and then I'd hear a remark directed at me followed by laughter.

I couldn't be happier that school was out. No more nicknames, no more bruises, no more pain.

But that was a rhetorical statement; I wasn't happy, and there would always be pain.

The house came into view, it wasn't the largest on the street, but it was one of the few bigger ones. It was a miracle dad had managed to pay it off, but now there was just too much for our small broken family of three.

I'd have half the mind mom only kept us here because it was the last thing she had left.

Of dad, that is.

I pushed open the heavy wood door and slid my shoes off onto the tile entryway floor. I had gotten halfway up the stairs when her voice echoed through the house,

"Hi honey, where have you been?"

I turned to face my mom's sympathetic eyes and raised up the grocery bag in my hand,

"Had to get new brui- brushes."

She nodded and I continued up the stairs, but I was interrupted again,

"How was your last day of school?"

I bit my lip as I heard the question, it was awful, like all the rest of them,

"It was fine."

It was anything but fine.

I quickened my pace up the stairs and down the hallway thankful she hadn't asked anymore questions. Finally I was in my room. I closed the door behind me and fished my brushes out of my bag, walking over to my small canvas.

My eyes glanced over to the window and I watched as innocent elementary students walked home.

What I would give to start over.

My school got out at 2, thanks to it starting at 7. My first 2 periods consisted of me waking up, the next 3 of me falling asleep and the last 2 of me running away.

I ran my hand up my arm cautiously and got lost in thought,

• Flashback •

"Hey Dani, get over here!"