Chapter 1
"Morgan I watched you bring in one unwanted monster in to our lives. I'm not going to let you do it again." My father says in a sinister voice to my unconscious mother. I watch as he uses last two bullets on her, one to her womb and one in her skull. He killed her and my unborn baby brother never giving him a chance at life. In two months hew would have been born. BANG BANG goes the gun. Quickly I cover my mouth muffling a scream hoping my father didn't hear it. No luck he turns around and opens the closet door where I was hiding. "You!" with no thought he grabs my wrist and drags me out of the closet by my chest length black hair, past my dead mother into the kitchen. There he stops. He yanks me up by the collar of my Def Leppard shirts and starts to rant on about something. "Because of you I had to marry your mother." At this point I was beyond scared. But I couldn't let father see that. "You could have gotten divorced." His dark eyes glare at me. "To get divorced would mean I would have to have money. Because I have to pay for all your shit means I don't have money." "Well you shouldn't have bought so much fucking BEER." The last part comes screaming out of my mouth before I could stop it. Father drops me to the ground. He goes to back hand me. I duck. This time he holds me and back hands me as hard as he can twice, one on each cheek. "STAND UP" Father commands. I do as I'm told. He punches me in the stomach. Slowly I fall to the ground before I could get there he pulls me back up. Father grabs one of the stake knives and takes a swing. He barely gets the side of my stomach. But he gets enough to where I got cut and starts to bleed. Father takes a four more swings and gets me more each time. When he got to his sixth swing, I doge it and he runs head first into the wall. I watched as he fell to the floor. Hate penetrated my eyes. I pick up the knife and walk over to him. Slowly I bent down behind him and slit deep in to his throat. "Good bye, Daddy dearest."
After realizing what I did I knew I had to leave. As I ran up to my room I started to strip of my clothing. Knowing I would have to get rid of it. Looking down at my wounds I noticed for the first time how deep they were. The first thing I did as I entered my room was strip my bed of its sheets. I would use the top white one as bandages. Striping them in to a size where I could wrap around my torso. When they were striped I took some in to the bathroom to clean my wounds. My face looked pretty bad. My right eye was black with bruise, there was a cut below my left eye, the right side of my lower lip was cut blood was dripping down my chin. Quickly I cleaned and wrapped my torso. Knowing the cops were going to be here soon I had to hurry. Heading back to my bedroom I grabbed a black back pack out of my closet and shoved a pair of black jeans, black jean shorts, a black Motley Crue t-shirt, black tank top and a change of underwear. Then I got dressed in a black spaghetti strap dress that went to mid thigh and some black low top converses. Even though it was the summer it would be cold at night so I grabbed my black leather biker's jacket. What can I say I love the color black. Before I left my room I shoved a picture of my mother, an empty notebook and a pen in to the bag. My mother always told me if I needed money I was to move the floor board
under her shoes in her closet. That's what I did I took all of it, for hundred and fifty dollars. I could hear sirens swiftly I grab the flashlight and the switchblade off my fathers shelf and climbed out of my parents window.
To be honest I had no fucking clue where I was going go or do. When my parents used to fight I would go to this part on the beach. Nobody would go there I not sure why. As I walked there where ever there is, I thought about what just happened, what I just did.
I found a spot by a couple of boulders to sleep bye. It seemed as soon as I laid down I fell asleep.