Hey guys! Long time no update, sorry about that. :) I've been fairly busy with basketball and volleyball is going to start soon. But I'm going to try to update soon. I promise. I don't know where this story came from, but review please! And tell me if you think I should make it into a story or keep it a one-shot.
So stand in the rainStand your groundStand up when it's all crashing downYou stand through the painYou won't drownAnd one day what's lost can be foundYou stand in the rain
Stand. In. The. Rain.
A sharp sting sensation runs down your back. It stings. It burns. It hurts. Suck it up, you whisper to yourself silently. It doesn't hurt that much. Suck. It. Up.
"You filthy little slut!" Another heavy blow lands on your upper thigh. You bit down on your lip, harshly. To keep from yelling out in agony. You try to not look at it; you know it will only make it worse. But you can't help it. You glance down. A large red uneven circle is already present and growing larger with each passing second.
"You've been bad! This is not the way I raised you. I put my ass in jeopardy just so you wouldn't starve in the streets. And this is how you…you repay me? Whore!" Your father's drunken voice falters as he starts to lose soberness. He takes a long swig of the jug of alcohol that is clutched tightly in his massive hand. He staggers backwards, and glares at you. "It's your fault your mother left! She hated you! Filthy little good for nothing brat!" he spits at you, missing your bare legs by mere centimeters.
"You'll repay me soon enough bitch. I have my repayment. Believe me. I will. Since you like screwing around so much, I might as well make some money out of it." With one final disgusted look, he finishes off his bottle and lets it fall. It falls slowly to the dark wooden floor, speeding up as it got closer and closer. It finally makes contact. Fragments of tinted dark glass shatter, repelling off the floor. He smirks again and turns on his heel, having trouble regaining his balance, he makes his way carelessly and recklessly out of the kitchen. You shut her eyes tightly, wishing everything away. You wait until you hear the front door open and slam shut. Finally, you let your eyes flutter open and you glance around the room. Besides the broken alcohol bottle, everything seems normal. Nothing is disheveled or askew.
"Better for me." You whispered silently. At least now you won't have to go around moving heavy furniture. You sigh quietly, taking in a long, deep breath to avoid crying. You will not shed a tear. Not for that son of a bitch. Never. Doesn't your mother know what state she left you in? The danger she put you in. All because of her stupid addiction. No not an addiction to drugs, an addiction to men. She would constantly cheat on her husband to satisfy her filthy addiction. Her need. Her husband couldn't stand it any longer.
Flashback
"Bye Mrs. Block. Thanks for the ride home." A nine year old version of you says as you step out of the vehicle quickly and gracefully, the wind blowing your dirty blonde hair out of your face.
Mrs. Block beams at you, "It was no problem at all, sweetie." You hear loud thuds followed by blood curling screams were heard from inside your house.
"I can't believe you cheated on me! Again! You'll pay for this." You hear your father scream at your mother.
"It's not my fault you can't satisfy me!" You hear your mother pleading her case. You look down, blood rising to your checks. Didn't your parent's have any kind of class? Oh well, you think, there goes another friend. Massie's mom will never let you be her friend after knowing what your parents are like.
"Sweetie?" You look up, hoping to be politer, your navy blue eyes locked with Massie's mothers. "Are you going to be ok here?" You nod slowly, unable to say anything, you watched the range rover speed of, leaving you in the dust. You dread walking up the narrow stone steps. Dread facing what is inside. Dread what your life would be like after today.
Grasping as much courage as you can muster, you narrow your eyes, forcing your chin up and take in a deep breath.
That was the night of many first. It was your first black eye. Your first broken rib. And the first time your mother walked out on you. The first time you experienced what it felt like to be heartbroken.
End flashback
Finally you stand, with newfound strength, confidence. You will stand up to him next time; you would stand up for yourself. That time came quicker than you expected. The door opens and slams shut for the second time in less than half an hour. You father walks in, his light brown hair looks thinner and more faded than ever. His eyes dart back and forth. He is obviously high.
"Bitch, what are you still doing here? Go upstairs; I have some friends coming over. We're gonna do an eight-ball. But first clean up this fucking room." You take in another deep breath, closing your eyes slowly and opening them again.
"No." You whisper. Your father looks taken aback, nervous, astounded.
"What did you say to me you ungrateful whore?" He demands.
"I said no." your voice is gaining more strength. "No. I will not clean up. No I won't do anything for you! Never again!" You are screaming by now. You glare at your father with such a hatred that would make even the most malicious person on earth be afraid. You look around the cold, heartless room. This was never your home. And it never would be. Your legs find a mind of their own; you stride past your father, and up the stairs taking two at a time. You hear hurried footsteps after you.
"What are you doing?" he asks, outraged.
"Leaving." You retort.
"Leaving? After everything I've ever done for you? You're leaving?" His voice returns to a calmer state. "Where are you going?"
"Nowhere. Somewhere. Anywhere. As long as it's away from you." You reach the end of the hall and force open the door of your room. You bend down to retrieve a couple of suitcases under your bed. Then rapidly start shoving your belongings in. It doesn't take a very long time, there isn't much to pack in the first place. He stands there the whole time, watching you warily. You turn to face the doorway, suitcases in both arms.
"Move." You order. He smirks at you.
"Do you think I'm letting you leave? You're underage."
"I don't give a fuck. Jail is better than here." You take two steps forward so you are nose to nose with him. "You are the worst, son of a bitch, bastard I have ever met. You don't deserve anything. The only thing you deserve is to go to hell. Now get out of my way." You snarl, your temper flaring.
With a passive look at you he acknowledges what you said but, he doesn't budge. You don't care. You pushed your way past your father, making sure to elbow him harder than necessary. He reaches out after you, trying to grab hold of the back of you sweatshirt. You pick up the pace and storm out of the house and onto the street.
"Get back here! You'll be back! Once the world turns on you! Oh you will be back!" You hear his screams, pleading you to come back. "Don't leave me! You can't leave me! Please! Come back!" You ignore it and continue walking. You make your way down the street. Once you hit the corner, you begin to sprint
You immediately feel a sense of freedom and accomplishment. The sun warms your pale skin. Kissing you. You love every minute of it. You are going to change. Start a new life. Something better. You deserve it. It is time to stand in the sun and forget your past.
Because you, Kristen Gregory, had to stand in the rain for far too long.
Love it? Hate it? I think you should review it. Personally, I don't like it. The ending sucks, I know. I'm so very sorry, but I couldn't figure out a good way to end it. Well I say you should review!
Stephanie…oh yeah! My parents never gave me a middle name (I don't know why.. they're weird. So I made up my own! Hurray for me! Woo!)
Stephanie. Nicolette. (hehe :))