Hello? Big Guy? Look, I know you can see me- therefore hear me I guess- at least that's what people say anyway. They say that you can be everywhere at that "periodical time". But you're not fooling me. Because I know you're just a phony piece of crap! JESUS CHRIST!"
I covered my mouth with my hand. Too. Late.
"Miracle? WHO exactly are you speaking to?!" My father shrieks. He doesn't like the words " Jesus" nor "Christ" in his house. My father's family was atheist, and he believes his children and wife shall become atheist too. He wants to carry the belief from generation to generation.
"No one dad." I thought that he would just go back to drinking the bottle of Hennessy my mom bought him earlier, if it isn't gone.
Father bursts into the room, Meth in one hand, other hand slapping me across my face.
"LIAR!!!!" He slurred. "Oh honey did I hurt you?" He grins slyly as he sees the pain slowly seeping onto my face. He disappears out the door for a moment, and then comes back in with big empty boxes.
"Pack you bags. We need to be out of this house by next Saturday." He throws the boxes down next to the bed.
"What? Why? If you guys are having trouble paying the bills you can use my next work check. I can get some money out of my savings that you guys can use-"
Dad raises his hand all the way back and it comes forward with such a powerful strike across my face.
"I don't need your help," he spits out, "just do what I ask, IT IS SO SIMPLE. You don't need to run your mouth just pick up the boxes and start packing!" He rolls his eyes and murmurs something while slamming the door.
"You ain't no mutha-" the rest were just cursing.
I look at the dresser mirror. I didn't notice before, but there were tears on my cheeks. A lot. They left large streaks, almost like a river path. I grab the closest thing to me; which was a hair brush, and I chucked it at my mirror. It shatters.
"Je te hais de tout mon cœur, et tu seras toujours considéré comme les cicatrices sur mes bras!" I cry loudly.
It means: I hate you with all my heart, and you will forever be seen as the scars on my arms.
The glass is broken. It cannot be put together. Tonight, my pillow will be soaked.
I was tossing and turning, hearing my mother cry in the bathroom while my father is out drinking with his pals. The same pals that my father let run their rough grimy fingers on my thighs and on my chest.
My sobs become more intense as I rock back and forth, knees close to my torso as I shiver in the dark night.
Hi, Author here! I'm sorry if the beginning is short this the beginning, I don't consider this as the first chapter :) I will write more when I have free time, hope you enjoy and see you Saturday! x
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The Big Bang Miracle
Teen Fiction" I'm not supposed to talk to him. My father doesn't believe in him, and my mother is forbidden to believe in him while she is married to my father. I don't either, I guess I don't? He wasn't there through all those times to save me from my father b...
