Innocence (An Abuse Story)

Note: this is not a true story!!! Also please take the time to read it, then comment your opinion. Also this is a freewrite, sorry for my horrible grammar and such.

Chapter 1. Part 1/3.

Waking up, I made sure to step around my sleeping dog's on the floor. Boomer and Midnight, Midnight was a black pug and Boomer was a tan American bull dog. They were both still babies. When I stepped around them, I felt a shiver run up my spine from the wickedly cold air around them. Dad must have the air on. I exit my room, still in my pj shorts and long-sleeve bed shirt, and made my way to the living room where my dad slept peacefully with a beer on the end table completely covered in bills that are way overdue. I made my way to the sink, turned it on and sighed when no water came out.

Dad must've not paid the water bill... I sighed again, then went to get dressed for school. I ignored my greasy hair and just put it up in a pony tail for the day. I dressed in a pair of long skinny jeans and a long t-shirt that covered the bruises on my arms. The bruises were still sore to the touch, I tried not to flinch at the twinge of it when I pulled my backpack on.

What time is it?

6:30. Oh crap. I'm late for school.

I run out the door, forgetting to put my makeup on again... I have to run back in to put coverup on nearly every inch of my body; hiding the scars that my dad has caused. When I'm done, I then rush to school.

Everyone was in class, I slip into my first bell English class. At least I'm not so late that I miss the bell completely, my English teacher - Mrs. Snow - is actually a pretty cool teacher.

After English, I rush to my locker and shove my stuff in it. Ugh. I groan when I realize that I have forgotten my Chemistry text book... My Chemistry teacher will freaking kill me. He already hates me, the stupid physco. I go to close my locker but a masculine hand stops me.

"A lonely lamb, I see?" Inquires the imbecile boy.

"I'm not lonely." I utter and push my way past him, slamming my locker shut on his hand.

I hope it hurts.

I hate boys.

I hear people snickering in the distance as I walk away.

Let them laugh.