Chapter One
I paced back and forth down the hallway, absolutely terrified of what he would do to me when he got home. Him meaning, my dad.
I had lost a fight. I NEVER lost a fight. The only reason I was alive was because I never lost a fight. Now? My dad had no reason to keep me in his home. I was there because I made him look good. I'd never done anything to make him look bad. Well, that he knew about anyway.
Then, I heard the door open and slam shut. Heavy footsteps stomped into the kitchen. I took some deep breaths, trying not to completely panic. He can't do anything to you ... he's your father. He WON'T do anything to you ... right? I kept thinking those thoughts over and over to calm myself down ... even though I knew they were lies.
"Ryan?" He called from downstairs. I stopped pacing and held my breath. The call came again. Louder.
"RYAN? YOU HOME?" I bit my lip and slowly headed into the kitchen.
"Yeah, I'm home." I muttered and looked down at the floor.
He approached me swiftly and grabbed my chin, forcing me to look up at him.
"Look at me when I talk to you."
I winced. "Yes, sir."
SLAP! His hand hit my face hard, sending me stumbling backwards into the cabinets.
"HOW COULD YOU? MAKE ME LOOK LIKE A TOTAL BITCH!" The hand struck again, and this time I fell to the ground.
He stood over me. I lay there with my eyes closed, just waiting. Waiting for the next blow ... waiting for it to be over.
"I want you out of the house. For the whole summer. You've got two days left of school, so use those to pack your shit. I don't want to see your face until school starts next fall." And with that, he stomped off.