I walked outside of school, and I looked around for daddy's car. I couldn't find it, which meant I had to walk home because daddy is an "alcoholic." At least, that's what mommy calls him.
Some people stare at me when I walk home, which I find creepy, so I start running until nobody is in view. Whenever I have to cross a street, I get really scared of cars. And that's when I hear a big CRASH! Car alarms were blaring, and so I dragged my heavy backpack where it was coming from.
I saw Daddy's car, destroyed. I almost felt relieved, until I saw him running away from the scene. I started walking home again, no cars to run over me.
I eventually made it home, to see Daddy there. I walked by him, with his green glass bottle in his hands. I went to Mommy's room, and knocked on the door. "Stay out!" I heard her yell. "okay, mommy..." I mumbled. I laughed by backpack to my room, and lifted it onto my bed. The bed was blue, dirty and old, but it was comfier than the floor, which I have slept on. I took out my 1st grade homework, and my pen, and started separating prefixes and whatever the other one is called.
I got up and stopped halfway through. I didn't get it, but I knew I wasn't gonna get help this time. I just brushed my long hair, not like it was ever cut, or done anything with, so I had to brush.
And then I heard, from moms room, "I said get out!" And I froze. "Not this again..." I mumbled to myself. I lay down in bed, covering my ears, to no avail. "Get your hands off me!" That's the first time I ever heard that...
"Get off you bastard! Hey, what're you doing?!" I don't know what got into me, but I knew I'd regret this day.
I just wanted spring vacation.
Hey! Tell me what you think so far, could you? I could use criticism, or whatever.
