Child abuse is the physical, sexual or emotional maltreatment or neglect of a child or children. Child maltreatment is defined as any act or series of acts of commission or omission by a parent or other caregiver that results in harm, potential for harm, or threat of harm to a child.Child abuse can occur in a child's home, or in the organizations, schools or communities the child interacts with. There are five major categories of child abuse: neglect, physical, psychological, emotional abuse or sexual abuse.
Lucas
You know what they say about your parent? How your parent is supposed to protect you, to be the one person you are supposed to trust more than anyone, the one who would never even think to lay a violent finger on you.
But things don't work that way.
I walk swiftly through the front door of our house, shutting it quietly. Our house was fine looking, a dark creme Victorian built sometime before I was born.
Apparently I didn't shut the door quietly enough, "Get the hell in here, boy!" My mother called from the kitchen.
I sighed, dropping my bag behind the couch that sat next to the stairs, leading to my room, and followed the sound of her voice.
"Yes ma'am?" And egg soared past my head. Sigh. I'd have to clean that up later.
"You filthy sow, you didn't clean up your fucking mess this morning. And where the hell have you been?" She sneered. My mother, who usually was a very well dressed and pretty woman, had on a pair of paint splattered jeans and a pure ugly flannel that was covered in eggs, flour, and all kinds of crap. I crinkled my nose.
"I apologize, I was at school." She slapped me, not believing my "nonsense".
"Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Just clean up your damn messes, alright, boy?" I nodded and watched her storm out.
She never used to be like thi. Hell, she's only like this when my dad goes on a business trip, which is like two out of three weeks of the month. Apparently being stuck with a teenage brat like me is enough to drive anyone into a drinking problem.
Fortunately she sobered up enough every time dad came back.
I grabbed a cloth, got it wet with water from the filthy sink, and began cleaning up the mess that I was so sure that I didn't make. There was egg, flour, cocoa powder, some type of soda, and pancake batter scattered all over the kitchen.
'What the hell did she do all day?' I shook head, tossing the dirty cloth into the empty laundry basket.
'Let's see, the dishes are done, the laundry is done. You should get started on homework.' I turned off the light and walked towards my room, the basement.
My room was a nice sized room that got cold a lot. It had a twin sized bed, that lacked a comforter, a small dresser and a charging dock. There was a door leading to my smallish bathroom as well. My dad had decided to get me an expensive iPod for my birthday as an apology gift for always travelling. It worked for a while until mother got ahold of it and broke the screen during one of her rage fits.
I sat down on the bed and pulled out todays Algebra homework.
'Oh what fun.' I rolled my eyes.
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Joey
"I love being out of the closet!" My bestfriend, Jace Hudson, cried, winking at one of the football jocks. I rolled my eyes and pulled my notebook closer to my chest.
"Great." I mumbled. I scanned the crowd for Lucas Wright. True, he was a jock, a straight jock at that, and he would probably crush me like a pineapple, but I'll admit it, I've been crushing on him since, gah! I can't remember!
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Short Stories
Random"A short story is a brief work of literature, usually written in narrative prose. Emerging from earlier oral storytelling traditions in the 17th century, the short story has grown to encompass a body of work so diverse as to defy easy characterizati...
