I kinda like dust bunnies. How the slightest breath of mine with move them. Like I have power over the dust bunnies unlike anything else in my sorry life. And I also kinda hate them. I hate them because they are under my bed. I only have to look at them and think about them when I am under my bed. I am under my bed. I am as close to the wall as possible, looking at the dust bunnies.

I hate myself. Look at me, almost in seventh grade and still hiding under the bed like a little kid. I am such a coward. I can't just stand up and face what I had coming, like a man. At least that's what my dad said. Actually, what my dad shouted.

He's been stomping around for a while, looking for me. I know its sooner or later that he will realize where I have been hiding and pull back the bed to get me. I'm happy that he hasn't found me but it also makes me kinda sad that he hasn't thought to look under the bed yet. Even my dad thinks that I'm too old to hide under the bed.

Whatever. I'll hide wherever I need to if it means avoiding what's coming to me. I'm such a coward. I'll bet Stretch doesn't hide and Stanford doesn't even flinch when he's getting it. I try so hard not to make a noise but somehow I always end up screaming. My mom pounding on the door begging him to stop. He shouting back that I had it coming.

He's right most of the time and definitely this time. I don't know what I was thinking, not recognizing his car when I sprayed it with soda. A tear runs down my cheek as I anticipate how hard I'm gonna get it. God dammit Digger pull your self together. You had it coming, you deserve whatever you're going to get.

Thank God its summer and I don't have to change for PE. Those are the worst. I hate the stares from people as I go to change in the bathroom stall every single day. I hear them complaining that some people actually have to use the toilet, why can't I just change in the locker room like everybody else? Well, dumbass, I wish I could more than you'd think.

But still, I'm gonna get it so hard, I'm gonna die. Actually, though, no lie. The Roadrunners are gonna find my body.. They're gonna hear a bullshit story about how I fell down the stairs or whatever the hell dad cooks up. Like the one he told the hospital last month. I had to work not to roll my eyes at the nurse as he explained that I fell out of my bunk bed. I don't want to die. Oh God I don't want to die.

I think I'll pray right now. Oh God please let me live past tonight. Just past tonight. Please God please please please I'll be good I promise.

I hear footsteps on the stairs. Dad stomping around, saying how when he finds me, he's gonna cut off my head and kick it up my ass. Please let me live tomorrow. Please God please please please. Oh I don't want to get it hard. I don't want to break another bone. It hurts too DAMN MUCH. He's stomping down the hall now. I'm crying now like the coward I am. I'm such a baby.

Please God don't let it be too bad tonight. I'm so sorry God. Not tonight, not tonight. The door to my bedroom opens. Please please please please not the belt anything but the belt. I see his shoes and when I see what he's holding, I have to put my hands over my mouth to stop a single whimper from escaping. I want to scream. I can't breathe.

The last time I got the piece of wood, I missed four days of school. Its two feet long and so splintery. And so hard, oh God it hurts so much. My heart is beating so loud how can he not hear it? He screams that he WILL kill me for real this time that I am going to be dead and I had it coming.

He opens the closet door with so much force that the room shakes. He rips the clothes out, looking for me in there. When he doesn't find me, he lets out a shout of fury and smashes a shelf on my wall with the piece of wood. The wood is so hard that the shelf falls and my trophies on it land on the floor. One shatters. In a few minutes, that shelf will be me. I will be laying on the floor, curled up in a ball screaming like a baby while I get what's coming to me.

I hate myself. My baby, cowardly self that can't even take what's coming with out crying. Dad's feet turn to face the bed. I am squashed against the opposite wall. Oh please God please God please God please please please.

"Digger! I'm gonna kill you."

He pulls back the bed. The last thing I see before getting dragged out is a pile of dust bunnies. I really hate dust bunnies.