WIP

II

The next morning, I lay in my bed thinking about what had happened overnight, trying to convince myself that I was probably tired and just imagining things. I pulled off my purple and white nightgown, just finally noticing that it was dirty and probably should wash it. I turn around and look at my window, just to be sure that there is nothing there and, I was right. There is absolutely nothing except for dark clouds and wet pavement outside. My stepmother bangs on my wooden door with a loud thud, scaring me half to death.
"GET UP TERRY!" she screams in her rushed morning tone.
I roll my eyes, not really meaning it, knowing that I would not be anywhere I am today without her. She is no more messed up than another freaks show on the street but at least she try's, we have a home, clothes and food on the table every... almost, every night. I'm not saying that we live in the nicest house and have the best income but we make it work some how. I can already hear my brother Mikey whining about something down stairs. His cereal, his clothes, it could be anything and it is a different thing every single morning.
I rush down the creaky wooden stairs - I don't even know how many times I have gotten splinters. My father is an alcoholic so, of course, the idiot puts alcohol in his coffee while he argues with my stepmother about something or other. Typical.
I try to block out the sound by putting my headphones on and I can't help smiling at the music even in these conditions. I try to get out of the house as quickly as possible so I grab my lunch and head out the door. I put the hood of my olive green hoodie up that I threw on this morning, mostly so people don't see my face or maybe because I just wanted me, myself and I. I look down as I walk toward my school, I look at my blue converse that have the laces untied. Leaves brush against my foot and I keep walking on the now damp pavement from the heavy rain last night.