You've Really Got A Way With Me
Prologue
"Dad! Don't! Stop! You're hurting her! I yelled helplessly as my dad beat my mom senseless.
"Shut up Bitch!" He yelled back. My sister, Tari, stood in her bedroom door. Staring at the scene. Tari was only 9. I was 11. Mom was pinned to the couch by dad, who was still hitting her harder and harder. I looked at Tari, who was crying. I pushed her in her room and shut the door. She didn't need to see this. Mom was barely awake when I snapped. I ripped dad off of her and got thrown into the wall.
"GET OUT!" I Yelled. He grabbed me by the neck and threw me into the kitchen. The knife drawer knocked open, dumping knives everywhere. Tears filled my eyes.
"You bastard!" I screeched.
4 Years Later
I stared at the doors of my new school. More hell. The early morning fight had left me in a bad mood.
"Get out, Gabe!" I hollered.
"Fuck you bitch."
"Not my type." I replied. He picked up the knife and threw it at me. I flipped the table, grabbed my stuff and ran out. I got in my piece of shit truck and drove off. I exhaled. What happens at home, stays at home I reminded myself. I walked up the steps and opened the door. My uniform was splattered in blood, but I had told people it was ketchup. I mostly avoided other students. I went to english and wound up in partner work. My partner was a really cute guy, but I didn't have time to catch his name. I just waltzed up to classes. When the day ended I went home I walked into a blowup.
"Holly! Get your ass in here!"