Angel

Chapter 7

I pulled the hood of my hoodie over my head as I walked back home, looking down at the pavement as I do so. As soon as I reached home, I heard glass shatter. I looked up and saw my Father standing at the bottom of the stairs, blocking my only way to get to my room. Suddenly, my Father launched at me, gripping my neck tightly as he slammed me against the wall.

You see, my Father was a heavy drinker. He chooses to spend his money all on alcohol and other things to entertain himself.

I gripped his arm in frail attempt to push him away. I was feeling a little light headed since I was running out of oxygen. Thank god, he dropped me onto the floor before I passed out. I grasped for air as I watched helplessly as he grabs an empty beer bottle and throws it at me. The glass shatters right before my left leg, bits of the glass cut through my flesh. I yelped in pain as blood started oozing out and onto the floor. I stood up slowly, gripping the wall for support. I winced at the pain and faced him.

"You're the reason why your Mother died!" He screamed.

I glared at him upon hearing what he said. Big mistake. "Don't glare at me idiot!" He barked and with that, I earned a slap across the face. It took me a while to regain my composure since I was stunned by the impact.

"If only you never existed." He slurred. I felt a lump in my throat and tears started forming. I took one last look at him before scrambling up the stairs and into my room, slamming the door shut and locking it. I slumped against the door and placed my head in my hands.

"He's right. If only you never existed, your Mother would still be alive." A voice rang in my head. I ran my hand through my hair in frustration. I began picking out the glass pieces out of my leg. After I was done, I dragged myself to my bed and fumbled under it until I felt my hand hit a box. I pulled the shoe box out and opened it before taking out a razor. I pushed the sleeve of my hoodie up and took the razor before cutting my left wrist with it.

I placed the razor next to me once I was done cutting myself. Not caring to treat my injured leg or my wounds, I sat there with my head buried in my hands. I could bleed to death, it doesn't matter if I was alive or not. My own Father hated me. No one cared or acknowledges my existence. Why bother? I felt my heart race as negativity began clouding my head. "You're nothing." The voice rang in my head again.