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Trixie.

"This school is full of crap. And Caleb, that over smart, geek is going to tutor me. Oh God, what have I ever done to you to get this kind of punishment?" And the most embarrassing thing is that I have to ride this crap, Mazda CX-5, to school every day.

I was not in a mood to continue the classes, so I decided to go somewhere. My dad used to take me to this place when I was a kid. Those were the best days of my life. But after dad was gone, everything sucks now.

Mom, she got married to this shit, Robert. And made my life a fucking hell.

I parked my car in the parking zone and went inside a small ice-cream parlor. I order one vanilla ice cream with chocolate syrup on top of it. Vanilla it reminds me of dad, and how he used to have a brain freeze on his every first bite. I was engulfed in my thoughts when my phone rang.

I left the call unattended. It's already 10 p.m., my curfew time. Yes, I do have a curfew time, all thanks to my stepfather. He is an ex-military officer and always wants discipline in the house. My mom never listens to him, so I am the only target alive. That person is a jerk, and I don't know why my mom married him.


I parked my car in the garage. It's 11.30 p.m. I entered the house from the backdoor. My mom was lying on the sofa, wasted. And that monster is nowhere to be seen. As I was going upstairs to my room, I heard an angry voice calling me. Think of the devil, and here it comes. I ran upstairs and slammed the door in his face. He was continuously screaming at me and banging my door.

"You whore, where were you till now? Fucking some random guy for money?

You little cunt, open the damn door before I break it." My stepfather banged the door more loudly.

Scared of what will happen, I slowly opened the door. A tight slap hit my face hard. Grabbing my hair, he said," This is my last time telling you not to encourage me for doing anything worse." With a loud bang, he hit my head on the wall and left.

Motherfucker.

It was fucking annoying to deal with, and he was probably patting himself on the back that he did it.

What the fuck?

Everything felt wrong.

I was hungry, just not for food. I wanted to laugh, but nothing was funny. All of my regular thrills didn't get my heart racing anymore.

I was crammed in a fucking jar, suffocating with everything I wanted but nothing that gave me air.

The next morning, when I woke up, my voice was hoarse from crying all night. There was a blood clot, from yesterday's hit. I put one band-aid there, and went to school.

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