PuzzlePeices
comment? should i continue?
My chest puffed out, and my hair tangled around my shoulders. My face was red, and I clutched my moms necklace tightly in my right hand, so tight my knuckles where white. I heard the smashing, and gulped. i prayed, and prayed, and prayed. I squeezed my eyes tight, so tight it hurt but I couldn't show my weakness. I felt the sobs build in my chest, like someone was shoving me, but I knew better. Oh Man. I shouldn't have had an attitude, no. not when he's drunk. The smashing came closer, and my dad clumsily walked into my room. My back was turned, my face to the wall. I held my breath, and He grabbed my shoulder, and puleld me off my bed. CLUNK. My body smashed to the ground and he slapped my face. I clenched my fists. If it was a year ago, I would ahve tried to defend myself, but I knew that it wasn't worth it. So i sat there, like always and let him turn my body bruised. "Don't you have an attitude with meeee. " his last word slurred, and he stomped away mumbling about getting more vodka.
Dad. He's been a drunk since mom died three years ago. I was stuck as the parent. Me Heather Alex Janeson. I had the worlds curleist hair, it was shoudler length. I didn't bother to straighten in, I knew I would regret it. I had a few friends, that I was close too. I wasn't popular and I'm happy with what I got. Even if someone is always trying to ruin my life.
I woke up slowly, my alarm clock was buzzing, and my head pounded. My big lab mix, trotted in and slobbered on my hand. His fur was a soft rich yellow, with white spots on his chest. "Sam, stop." He backed away as I slammed snooze and stretched. My bruises ached, but nothing serious this time. Last time, he pushed me down the stairs and I sprained my ankle. He told the doctors I fell, and they said I was lucky to not have broken anything, I pulled on a grey cardigan voer a light blue tanktop, added my moms necklace, and danced around as i pulled on my skinny jeans. I slide on some flip flops, too lazy to look for any socks to go with sneakers. I combed my hair, and winced at the snarls and pulled into a side pony, my curls flowing lightly to the side.
I llooked in the living room. Dad was reading the newspaper. A sign of soberness. He smiled at me, and handed me a muffin. "There honey." he always tried to make up for what he did, and I always forgave him. Then it would happen again and he'd show his sorryness, by bringing me shopping, or making my favorite foods. "Dad, I gotta go catch the bus. Love ya." He nodded and he got up to, getting ready to go to the office, as a real estate agent. I sighed, and the bus picked me up. Great another day of school, drama, drama, oh and did i mention drama? I leaned against the beat up seat of the bus and finally relaxed. For only a minute. . .
OnTheEdge