New Beginnings (undergoing editing)

Chapter(1) the shooting

             I walk to school, limping, as usual, I got beat bad last night. Mom and dad were super drunk they couldn't even see straight. I had a rough night, and by 'rough night' I mean that I tried to kill myself, by self-harming. I nearly died, but I didn't. I pull my hoodie closer to my freezing body and keep walking down the sidewalk to school.

        Eventually, I walk through the doors of my middle school hell and head to my locker, I'm one of the first kids here. Which isn't surprising I have to leave at about 7:00 so that I can get to school on time by eight o'clock. I open my locker and get the right books, throw my old beaten backpack into my locker and hurry to class. There's no one in the room so I get my sketchbook out and start to draw in the back of my English class.

        After a bit the first bell rings and all the other idiots come into class. The class starts and the teacher starts speaking but I don't really pay attention. What's the point? We are all going to die anyway and why spend half of our lives stuck in a desk in a place that (for some) is an actual hell for twelve years, then either go do something with our lives, die, turn into nothing or go back to school so we can be in debt until we die and be a slave to the government so that we can provide our basic needs as human beings. Sounds fun right?

Anyways I am passing this class so whether or not I pay attention 24/7 doesn't really matter.

        I snap back to reality when the bell rings and I gather up my stuff and almost leave, but before I fully make it out the door the teacher calls me over to his desk and says, "please, Liza have a seat." I do as I am told and sit down in one of the desks in the front row so we can 'talk'.

     "So I noticed that lately, you've had multiple marks on you. Bruises. Is there something going on at home Liza that we need to know? We can help you" he tells me his eyes pleading with me to say something. He wants to be that one teacher who saved that one kid from abuse. He has no interest in us at all, it shows in his teaching skills if you could even call them that. But I don't say anything to him because I can't, not now not ever. I can speak but that doesn't happen at school unless I am asked a question that's related to school and not my family life.

          I shake my head and get up and leave before he can even blink. I walk out of school because I am already thirty minutes late to my second period. Oh well, time to skip the rest of the day. I can't have a tardy on my report card, my parents would kill me.

I have a lot of absences though because of all the abuse. Sometimes mom and dad get a little too carried away and really beat the shit out of me. Then I have to stay at home for a couple of days so I can walk. Not that anyone cares.

The students at school hate me as well but normally they don't beat me up too bad, not as bad as my parents do. So that's a plus, normally it's just the occasional name-calling. I head home through the back door because the front door is locked. I don't have a key to the front door either, anyways, mom and dad shouldn't be home right now because mom and dad work at a bar so they should be home around at around four or five tonight.

      I head up to my room when I hear the front door slam shut. Why are they home? How am I going to get out of this mess? Ugh. What the hell!? How about I just let them beat me, maybe I'll die. Then I won't have to do this anymore that sounds... alright I guess, it's better than suffering. I sit up in my room not making a sound, I don't want them to find me, but I mean if they do, we are all good, dying sounds okay, I guess.

        I sit up there, in my makeshift bedroom staring at the crack in my ceiling for what feels like forever when my parents come barging through my bedroom door that already has a lot of holes in it. That was unexpected, like manners people please! You may beat me, but damn not even the common courtesy of knocking? Jesus. They run into my room and they pick me up and walk down the hall carrying me by my upper arms, I let my legs go limp. I'm not going to make this easy on them.