"Justin! Push me higher! I want to fly higher!" A girl about nine years old yelled at her best friend.
"Austyn, if you go any higher, you might fall!" A boy, older than the girl, about ten or eleven said calmly.
"I wanna be like the birds!" The swing suddenly jolted to a halt as the small girl hurled towards the ground. At the scene there were three people, a small girl, Austyn, A small boy, Justin, and the girl's father.
"You boy, get your ass offa my property!" He said with a bottle of Jack Daniels sloshing in his hand. Justin ran to the edge of his yard next door and hid behind a bush, unseen to the drunken man. "Girl, get inside that house! I told you, you aint allowed out! Get up!" The small girl coughed once and passed out.
Part 1
I jolted awake from my dream of that day. The day my mother left and my father became a drunk. I looked to my right at the alarm clock. 4:27. The alarm is set to go off in 3 minutes, I might as well get up now. I begin my daily routine: Check my body in the mirror for new cuts or bruises, possibly broken or dislocated bones, get dressed, start mark's bath for him. Mark is my father. I don't like to claim him very often because one, he stinks, two, he can't hold a job, and three, he is the reason for my existence and my hatred of it. I hear dishes clanking around in the kitchen, which brings a smile to my face which rarely smiles. It means Justin is here. Justin Drew Bieber, My best friend. If it wasn't for him, I'd be dead. Mark's bath is ready, which means I get to go wake him up. Fun.
"Mark, wake up." I whisper timidly. I find my voice and yell, "Marcus, wake up! You've got an interview, you smell, and you have a hangover…again." He doesn't wake up. I flash the lights and duck, avoiding the beer bottle that shattered against the door. I guess I'll have to clean that up. "I have your bath ready, Mark, and breakfast is on its way. I suppose he could smell it, because he got up to get in the bath, but not before throwing up all over the floor. "Great." I mumbled under my breath. Oops.
"What did you say, Bitch!" He got in my face. "Don't you sass me, girl. I told your mother to abort you, but did she? No!"
The smell coming from his breath was awful. I couldn't breathe, but I managed to say "Make sure you remember to brush your teeth this time, Mark." I turned on my heel and walked out briskly. I walked downstairs and Justin was waiting for me in the kitchen with open arms. He let go and kissed me on the forehead then sent me scouting back up the stairs with Mark's breakfast.
"Here." I say shoving the tray at his nasty body lying in the tub half asleep. When I go back downstairs, Justin climbs into the cleaning closet, hands me the mop, broom, and dustpan, and shuts the door. He's not supposed to be here. I'm not allowed out, except for school, and no one is allowed in, but every morning Justin comes over to help me. I clear my mind and mop up the puke on the floor then sweep up the broken glass. Once I'm finished, it's my turn to take care of myself. I start the shower and hop in. I can barely touch my beaten body, but the pain is nowhere near what is to come. The door to my room opens and slams shut, the locked bathroom door is broken down, and the glass shower door is torn off of its hinges and shatters on the floor.
"I thought I told you your job around here is to take care of me and my house! You take care of me first! Where are my clothes!" Mark screams at me.
"I-in your closet." I stutter.
"Why aren't they laying out?" He doesn't wait for an answer, instead, he kicks my knee in backwards. Crunch. I fall to the floor. The last thing I hear is Mark leaving the house.
"Justin." I mumble. It seems these fights always end up with me passing out, But that's when I'm happiest. I feel no pain, no hurt, I'm free for those few moments.