So, his name is Ryan, he's originally from Australia and had been living in New York for about five years, and he's 17, a year older than me. Ryan and I had actually started spending lots of time together, I enjoyed his company. I mean, I loved his company and his perfect caramel skin, and his hazel eyes, and...
There's a knock on the door.
"Who is it?" yelled my mother.
No response.
Before my mother could get up to open the unlocked door and see who it was, an angry man opened the door, it was my father. His eyes were red and in less than three seconds he darted across the room and choked my mother. She tried to fight back but she got weaker and weaker by my father's strong hands strangling her, his veins popping out as if he let all of his anger out in his hands.
"HELP, HELP, STOP HURTING HER!" I continuously yelled. There was nothing I could do other than that.
Room service along with the hotel manager had run through the door and pried my dad off of my blue-faced mother, her body was limp and her eyes were shut. It was too late. I ran out of the room with my jacket, ignored the sounds of the ambulance, I just ran with the tears flowing down my cheeks. It all happened so quickly. Why did he start doing drugs again? Didn't rehab work? Did I cause stress towards him? What if I didn't come back in his life again? Is this my fault? It's my fault, all my fault.
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It's All My Fault
Teen FictionJodie, a sixteen year old who lives in a small town finally as a given opportunity to go travel in the big city of New York. Most people have wishes of going there and experiencing the fun, but she doesn't. She doesn't even want to hear her mother...
