Emo Is As Emo Does (Keith x Reader)

[1] Eighteen

Lol more fanfiction. This time, I plan to finish this one-

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"Okay, WHO LEFT THE TWINKIES IN THE MICROWAVE!?" you called out to your atrocious family while trying to juggle three plates full of food you made. Oh, and not to mention the fact that you were on the phone scheduling your step-brother's dentist appointment because he was too much of a wuss to go and deal with the first like every other normal person has to. You struggled to walk over to the dining table and place down the dishes without completely messing up.

Your family acted like trash. And not to mention that they treated you like it. They made you slave away at doing the chores, fixing up dinner, and going out to buy the groceries for them. When you turned thirteen, your step-dad couldn't handle your mother anymore—so he took the money you had been saving up for a bus ticket out of there, and skipped town himself. Ever since that day, you regretted telling him about your secret money stash.

  "(Y/N)!!! DID YOU REFILL THE PUPPY'S FOOD DISH!?!" your mother screeched from upstairs.

  You groaned and screamed back, "THE THING WEIGHS MORE THAN YOU, I DON'T THINK WE SHOULD FEED IT ANYMORE!!" You managed to set the plates down without breaking anything. You glimpsed over to the chihuahua you had been referring to. It just looked at you with bugged-out eyes practically screaming "help me" and a long tongue falling out the side of its mouth. It looked disturbed. "Gross," you commented with a scowl as an expression. Finally, you just sat yourself down and let out a big sigh.

Until Godzilla broke loose. You heard the panned-out sound of high-heeled shoes trudging down the stairs. The old wood creaked every step she took.

  "Why, hello, Mother," you said, turning to her with a sarcastic tone in your voice. You knew you had smelled the familiar scent of cheap perfume.

  "(Y/N), DID YOU RESCHEDULE YOUR BABY BROTHER'S APPOINTMENT?"

  "Yesss," you nodded your head, brain-dead. Even though your brother was twelve, she expected you to treat him like a newborn.

  "AND DID YOU POLISH HIS SHOES FOR SCHOOL?"

  "Mhm."

  "AND DID YOU-"

  "Refill the dog's bowl? Yes. And get you that Chanel lipstick—specifically the color of Merlot? No, I just got a dupe from the drugstore."

Your mother's face went red with rage. You just ignored it since it was not uncommon. in that second, her filthy hand clasped onto a lock of your hair and yanked it. A few tears from the stress filled your eyes as you got dragged down. Your mother came close to your ear and whispered,

  "Look girl, I don't know why you just can't accept your life for what it is. You have noooowhere else to go."

  Her breath was so vile it almost made your ears numb. However, you flinched away and drew your hair back behind your shoulders. "That's not true. When I turn 18, I'm blowing this Popsicle stand!"

  "Tell me, where will you go? Huh? What, do you plan to end up on the streets like your cowardly step-father?" she pestered. The old bat was really starting to get on your nerves, and out of vexation, you just punched the woman in the mouth.

  "OOF!" she grunted, falling back and landing on the dog. The dog puked and its leftovers were now all over your mother's expensive haircut. She rolled off and locked her vision on you with ire burning in her eyes. "YOU WILL REGRET THAT!"

  "I'm welling up with tears," you responded, sarcasm blatantly dripping from your words. "I'm tired of being your slave. And once I turn 18 tonight, I'm getting out of here. Being without a home is better than being with you! Family is home—and I wouldn't consider you my family. By blood or not!" After saying your piece, you stormed out of the kitchen. You ran up the flight of stairs and came into your bedroom—slamming the door behind you. You extended all of the drawers full of your neatly-placed clothes and began placing the needed essentials in a bag.