As I made my way towards the door, I was hooked in the side of the head by a hard first. I let out a yelp and fell to the ground. "Where the fuck do you think you're going?" said Eli, this big ape standing over me. He kicked me hard in the side. I was sure at least one of my ribs was broken at this point. I started crying under my breath. Eli must have noticed my tears on the ground, because he said "Whats wrong you little shit? Haven't had enough?" He kicked me again. I screamed this time. This time our school counselor came around the corner and shouted "Get off of him, Eli!" Eli ran out the door and away from the school. I lay there, broken and crying. The pain was unbearable. Mr. Kwaski helped me to my feet.
I sat in his office while he called my mother. "There was an Incident. Yes, he seems to be okay. I don't think he will be able to walk home. OK, thank you Mrs. Harrison." he hung up the phone. "Your mother is on her way" he said to me. I nodded my head, and squeezed my nose harder. My nose was bleeding uncontrollably. "Is there anything that may have caused this?" Mr. Kwaski asked me. I shrugged. "Tell me whats going on, Evan" I hesitated, but finally said "Eli doesn't like me" Mr. Kwaski stared at me for a second or two and said "Anything else?" I shrugged again. Just then, my Mom came through the office door. "Oh no, Evan are you okay?" she whimpered. I nodded. "Thank you so much for calling me. I'll make sure we get everything treated" my mom said. She took me out to the car. "I'm sorry this happened, Evan. Who was the person who hit you?" I stared blankly through the windshield. "It was that asshole Eli." I muttered. My mother didn't allow cursing, but she payed it no attention. We arrived at the house. I was starting to wish that Eli had killed me earlier. My step-dads Truck was parked in front of the house.
When I got inside, the first thing he had to say was "What happened to that little fuck face?"
"Stop it, Dave!" My mother said to him. "What? It's true! He's fucking worthless." He belched and took another swig of his beer. He was drunk, per usual. I walked past him, and he pushed me forwards. I tripped over one of his empty beer bottles. He broke out laughing. "Look at him! He's a fucking rodent!" He continued to laugh. I stood up and looked at him straight in the eye. He stopped laughing, and said. "What? You wanna hit me? Hit, me you little shit." I turned around and walked to my room "Disrespectful garbage." I heard him say as I walked away. My room was plain. Beige walls, a scratchy old bed, a desk and a chair. In of the corners in my room, the carpet lifted up, and revealed a little hole in the ground, where I kept a box full of things that were important to me. There was a photo of me and my real dad, a golden painted rock with my name engraved on it, and a pocket knife. I wanted to kill myself. I could have killed myself. I didn't. I had to stay strong. At least for a little while.
I heard my mom arguing with that pig.
Then I heard her scream.
I grabbed my pocket knife, and opened the door. She was laying on the ground, and he was hitting her.
I ran at him, and caught in the the back with my knife.
