Once I had gotten home I started screaming at my mirror that hung on the back of my door. I punched it and it broke. The glass entered my fingers as I punched it again. My hand started to bleed and I wiped it on my bed. My hand continued to bleed as my parents called for me."Taylor," I heard my mother say in a soft yet mad voice. I shoved my hands into my pocket and walked into our living room. I said kind of annoyed, "Yes?" My father replied in him booming voice, "Young lady! Your in big big trouble." I shrugged as if I didn't care and to be honest I didnt. My mom mumbled, "She didn't really do anything. And if she did it was in self defense." This seemed to make my father even more mad. His face turned a dark shade of red and grinned. "I'm just kidding." He laughed. "I'm proud of you Taylor." I smiled and pulled my hand out of my pocket revealing my bleeding knuckles. My dad said, "Bruise your knuckles? Makes since. Hitting someone about twenty times." I then got furious and screamed, "Twenty?! No maybe ten but not twenty! Three times at lunch three times by the football team and I pushed her on the bus! I didn't hit Morgan twenty times! Who told you that?" My mother replied in a soothing voice, "The office. Sweetie calm down we believe you." I stormed off and realized I had just left blood for my mother to clean up off the hardwood floors.
