"Why is this so important to you?"
"Just drop it please, Jamie."
"No, I wanna know, okay? I wanna know why you want so desperately to fit in when you obviously don't, Delilah."
"Because I don't wanna be forgotten. I don't wanna be forgotten, okay? I...
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Chapter One: the nightmare before school
I WALKED DOWN OUR long hall just to find my dad with his back turned making, what I can assume was, breakfast. I sat on the stool in front of our island and waited until he was finished.
Dad's breakfast was always the best.
While cooking he kept his back turned yet we had a typical conversation that consisted of school and my grades. It was nice for a minute or two since he never really cared to ask before.
That was until he turned around with that goofy smile and showed off a beer bottle in his hand that, from the looks of it since it was opened, he had been drinking from.
I hated when Dad drank.
Ina single motion he eyes met mine and he saw that we didn't share the same expression and emotion towards what he was doing. His smile shifted quickly to sheer and before I know what had happened a beer bottle was headed towards me. I shut my eyes tightly as the bottle shattered and he threw it against the island. The glass bottle now was scattered along the island, floor, and small shards in my skin.
I looked up with tears in my eyes wishing that what had happened was only an accident. But he only looked with a cold stare. Anger that was made worse with beer running through his system.
"Now you've pissed me off! You're always so selfish! I was here cookin' for you and all I get is my ear talked off about bullshit," he slurred. He started to rub his hands down his face and in his hair.
I tried to run from my Dad. But my body ached in every step from the glass that somehow also made its way onto the floors. I was glued to the floors now and couldn't move in fear of more pain.
Dad came towards me quicker and each blow he gave straight to my body were ten times as painful as the last.
Glass entering deeper and deeper inside my skin to the point where I felt that the glass and I were now one.
Pain.
~*~
I soon woke up to the sounds of Mom shushing me quietly. I could tell that she was concerned although I had to look past her deep bags and tired eyes. That only made my heart drop to my stomach in guilt and a slight embarrassment.
"Shh, it's okay. It's just a dream," she noted pushing my baby hairs off my face that were now sweaty and stuck to my face from how intense the visuals were in my mind. All thanks to a dream that managed to happen yet another night this month.
