Story of My Life // Taylor Caniff

•7•

Chapter 7

*Faiths POV*

I drove home and wanted to show my mom so badly.

"Mom look what Deb got me and Felicity! Two tickets to MagCon!"

"Thats great Faith!" Mom said excitedly.

Wow. She was in a better mood today.

"Am I allowed to go?" I asked her.

"Of course! Just don't be out too late, please."

I wrapped my arms around her and gave her a hug. "Thanks Mom. I love you."

I went into my room where my room was totally trashed. "Jeeeeeeeet." I whined.

"I sowie." He apologized handing me the sharpie marker.

I looked at my dresser and my favorite perfume was dumped.

I facepalmed myself. "Come on buddy, you can't do this to me! You can't make a mess!"

Hillary walks into my room and starts laughing. "Sucks to be you." She snickers.

"Hillary it is YOUR job to watch Jet when I'm at school and mom is sleeping when dad leaves for work." I snapped at her.

She just rolled her eyes at me and walked off. God I wish it was her who got beat this morning, not me.

I finished up my homework after dinner and then snuggled up in my sweat pants, MagCon sweater (friend also sent) and my fuzzy blankies.

I fell into a deep sleep about a guy. He was nameless and I didn't know what he looked cause his face was sort of blacked out. His voice, I can't remember. But this guy, he was seriously protective. He would do anything for me, be there for me, and he loved me.

I remember seeing another girl in the dream. She had a crush on this guy, but for some odd reason, he didnt love her back. Just me.

I snapped my eyes open to the pain across my face.

I say up and held my face. "What the fuck?!?!"

I rubbed my eyes and Dad whipped me again with a belt.

I began to cry as he repeated his actions.

"Get up you piece of shit!! Do your chores before you leave!" Dad screamed at me.

The stench of alcohol flew at my as did his words. He whipped me one more time before slamming my door close.

I ran my hands through my hair shakishly as tears streamed down my face.

I rubbed my face with my hands to stop the pain, but it didn't help much.

I got dressed as fast as I could to prevent another beating from my dad.

I put on white ripped short shorts with a regular tank top and my MagCon sweatshirt on top.

When I got out to the kitchen he was waiting for me with a paper in his hand.

He slapped it out in front of him and I took it from him.

Girls Chores:

-clean the bedrooms

-do the dishes

-sweep the hallway

-vacuume the porch

-walk the dog; feed the dog

-get the kids off the bus

-take out the trash

-mowe the lawn every other week

This. This is only the beginning.

But it's how it started.