Happy Endings Don't Exist...Do They?

Chapter 1:The Monotony of High School

Beep.

That's all my alarm has a chance to do before I shut it off. I lay still, listening, waiting. The house creaks around me but that is all I hear. I let out the breath I was holding and get out of bed, heading to the bathroom. I do my morning routine, you know bathroom, brush my teeth and hair all that jazz. Then I move to get dressed donning on my usually jeans and tee with my converse. I head down the stairs like the stealthy ninja I am, avoiding waking the sleeping beast that lies at the end of the hall. Waking my father before breakfast is a mistake that should be avoided at all costs; I learned that lesson when I was 12.

I was able to make a full breakfast of eggs, bacon and toast eat and leave before he awoke. I headed toward school aka the hell away from hell. I walked up the steps of the front of the school and make my way toward my locker. As I open it, I take a deep breath of relief; I made it through the morning without a beating. Score. Then I shake my head at myself, how pathetic is my life that the highlight of my day will most likely be that my father didn't beat me before I left for school.

As soon as I finish that thought I am pushed from behind and my notebooks go flying to the ground. I land next to them soon after with an umf. "Watch what you're doing freak" Rose the queen bee of the school scoff as she strutted off down the hallway, leaving me to clean up for things. I hate this place I think it is almost worse than home. I finally get everything picked up and placed in my bag I shut my locker and head toward first period.

I head toward the back of the classroom near the window and take my usual seat. My first period is English and let me tell you my teacher is a little...wacky? hippy? Let's go with wacky. Ms. Lucas is wacky she believes in 'free spirit thinking' and doesn't assign seats to better allow the free flow of ideas. It leads to a lot of changing of seats as friends have fights or couples break up, however my seat is always left empty, I guess nobody wants to catch my 'freakishness'. I honestly don't get high school just because I like to read and could care less about who is dating who I am labeled a wierdo and a freak. It also probably doesn't help that I can't make friends. Friends would want to come over to my house or ask too many questions about things I cannot answer, it's safer this way for them and me.

I am pulled from my musings by Ms. Lucas' starting her lecture. I pull out my notebook and pay attention. The rest of the day goes on like this. Bell rings move to my next class and get bumped, tripped and verbally abused every time by those who "rule the school". (Insert eye roll) Teachers drone on about things that are not really important after high school because lets me honest when will I ever use trig? Lunchtime has me eating quickly in the cafeteria then rushing to the library trying to avoid the jocks and Barbie dolls. Then its back to class for the last two periods. Sigh. I am once again am sitting in the back of the class, my head on my hands watching the clock as it ticks toward the final bell.

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

As the final bell rings I head toward my locker for the last time today, thankfully I escape further abuse by my classmates. I switch out my things, shut my locker and make my way down the stairs in the front of the school. Another day done the same as the last. I head toward home my steps getting slower and slower with each one I take. 'Maybe he won't be home. Maybe he will still be at work. Maybe he went out and won't be home till late.' I pep talk myself. Yeah and maybe pigs will fly. My father works from home most days allowing him to opportunity to 'be there for me' when school is out, or at least that is what he tell people at work. Personally I think he drinks too much to properly drive anywhere except to the liquor store. I walk up my driveway and the pathway to the front door. I unlock the door as I carefully step through the entryway. (that's a lot of ways') Whew I slowly relax when I don't see him immediately.

My mistake.

No sooner do I drop my guard does he show up and boy is he pissed. "Where have you been?!?" he yells at me. "school." I reply in a monotone. He continues on with his rant as if I hadn't even spoken, "Why are you so late getting back? You left the house a mess this morning? What were you thinking? Why are you so useless? Are you even listening to me?" At that last question I was granted a slap across my face. "Well?" "I'm sorry," is all I say. "I'm Sorry." He echoes "IM SORRY! what a worthless piece of shit are you. Can't even properly defend yourself. Can't even do simple task." He yells as he grabs my hair and starts dragging me further into the house. Me feet scrambling beneath me trying to get their footing as my father pulls me into his office. Once there he drops me and shuts the door. He turns to me with a sneer and a punch to the stomach, which knocks the air out of me. He follows that with a kick to my thigh. All the while hurling verbal noise. I don't move, I don't react, knowing that if I do it will only make things worse. Eventually the hits and kicks slow down and I risk a glance toward him to see him pace the length of his office, ranting to himself.

He sees me looking at him before I can look away and stalks back over to me where I am curled up. "Get up" he says and slowly I do as I am told. The new abuse to my body making it hard to follow the order without pain but I manage to not make a sound. "Never again will you leave the house a mess as you did today." He starts, "Do I make myself clear?" I nod my head, careful to keep my eyes lowered. He nods once decisively "Good, now make my dinner and get out of my sight." He punctuates this order with a push and I fall to the ground where I land with a yelp. He walks out of the room with disgust on his face. It takes me a while to sit up from where I was pushed. Then more time to be able to stand properly. By the time I make it to the kitchen three hours have passed since school let out, the sky has gone dark and I have new bruises on my body. I quickly cook dinner of pasta and sauce and retreat to my room. I don't dare taking anything for myself for dinner. I don't want to explain what I have done today in order to deserve it.

I take a shower to try and stave off the stiffness from today's beating. I dry my hair as I examine myself. Today there were just new bruises to my collection nothing was broken. Luckily none of them are on my face and can easily be hidden by long sleeves. I snort at that thought lucky there is no such thing as luck. I stare back at my reflection taking in my grey-blue eyes and my long pale hair. It looks like I had all the color leached out of me. My pale skin which is slightly darker than my white blond hair is covered with black and blue spots, along with yellow and green of my old healing bruises from previous time spent with my father. I dry my hair with a towel and get dressed in my jammies as I head to my bed to finish up my homework.

Every time the stairs creaked I stilled, waiting to see if it was him. Eventually he did come upstairs and I waited to see if he went to his bedroom or wanted to have another round. He steps echoed down the hallway, finally passing my room before ending at his. I let out the breath I had been holding and decided to call it a night. I put my things back in my bag and turned off the light. I pulled my sheets over my body as I set my alarm for the morning roll over and fall into a fitful sleep.