On my way back to biology the bell rang, dismissing classes for the end of the day. Tomorrow was Friday, which meant only one more day of suffering until the weekend.
Instead of taking the bus I headed home on my feet. The walk was long like usual and the dreary clouds did not help my mood. As I walked along the back roads I noticed a house with a moving truck in the front. The house was four doors down from mine.
As I approached the new neighbors I saw him. I still didn’t know his name and I hate myself for not catching it in the bathroom. His blonde hair ruffled in the wind as he helped a middle aged woman, his mom, carry boxes inside.
I walked passed and into my house without getting noticed which was good, I think.
“Mom I’m home” I yell once I get into the door and run up to my room.
As I entered my room I didn’t hear my mom say anything back. Typical.
I lay back on my bed, tired from the busy day of running from class to class and dealing with Gage. Suddenly my door swung open and my dad walked in with a can of beer in his hand. I despised him along with my mother, they both drank, nonstop.
“Do you need something?” I snap
“Damn boy... I am your father you need to have a little more respect” my dad slurred out and almost fell over into my wall.
Being my smartass self I fixed my posture and crossed my legs and looked to my dad with big eyes.
“Father what would you like to know?” I asked then rolled my eyes.
I laughed at my little stunt but my dad didn’t find it amusing. He pulled back his hand and struck me across the face. I cringed and laid a hand on my face as my arms started to shake. My dad leaned down close to my face and grabbed me, turning my attention to him.
“That’ll teach you that next time you’ll drop the attitude” he growled as the stench of beer hit my face making me gag.
My dad threw me back and walked out. On his way out he pushed over my book shelf causing my books to sprawl over the floor. Once I cleaned them up and put all of them back on my shelf I walked into my bathroom.
My nimble fingers found the light switch and flipped it on, showing my reflection in the mirror. Recoiling at the sight of me, my hands reached my face and brushed over the bruise on my left cheek.
“Fuck” I mumbled under my breath.
Now I have to go to school with this on my face and surely I would get made fun of.
I know I’m in eleventh grade but I can’t fight my dad back that would basically be suicide. I don’t have a job for me to move out and I’m not ready but at the same time, I am. As my thoughts battle in my head about moving out the door bell sounds.
Knowing that neither of my parents would answer I walked down and opened my front door. When I did I came face to face with him.
