" I HATE IT HERE! WHY CAN'T I EVER CATCH A BREAK?!" I screamed at my dad. " BECAUSE YOU JUST LOVE TO CAUSE ME PROBLEMS!!" he shouted back before slapping me across the face. I can feel the sting, but not the pain. I'm too used to this now. Seven years of hits, kicks, punches, and jibes; all mean nothing to me. Absolutely nothing. I'm to tired to even flinch at this. " Why don't I just leave then? I only cause problems. I'll just go." I'm done crying to him, over him, for him. I'm done pretending he doesn't do the drugs. Pretending he doesn't try to DRINK my mother away. Even my mother knew I would be to much trouble. She committed suicide when I was three. Now I'm stuck with a dad who despises me and wishes I could take care of myself. So he could spend all of his money on weed or beer. Instead of the child he helped create.
I'm going to escape tonight. Tonight. I won't have to deal with this insanity anymore. I have the money saved up. To get to a hotel in Tampa. Enough to stay for 4 months. Then I'll be old enough to get a job. I've accounted for everything. As soon as he falls asleep I'm going to sneak down the steps with my backpack and duffel and get in my best (and only) friend's car. He's going to drive me to the hotel. He's going to stay for the first night. But he has to be home in the morning before he's noticed to be missing. From there I will be on my own with the occasional visit from him.
He's been there for me through allot. I originally started with him and three other friends. One of them committed suicide. His "brother" tried to commit suicide the very same night. He survived. Barely. Went to the hospital. Died around a month later. Then my friend in Kansas got hit by a car and they didn't think he would make it. Complications with his spine. Somehow they got the money and he was fine. Haven't talked to him since... All of this happened in 7th grade. He was the only one who cared enough to stand by me...He was the only one who cared enough to keep me alive...
