(Your P.O.V.)
(Dream-land/ Flash-back)
Yelling.
Blurred colors mixed with black swirls: always moving before everything would go dark. The smell of Captain Morgan rum was the only thing that was constant, that was the smell that filled your nostrils as you sat in your small room. There were loud shouts that were sometimes followed by either a slam of the door or of a fist.
This had become routine to you, though it never meant that the words that your so-called "father" spoke to you never hurt. Hell, it always hurt, but you never let them see that it tears you apart as you wear a "mask" to conceal. The only reason your father had ever fought for custody of you ever since he divorced was due to the child-support funds he would receive for being the legal guardian. After discovering that he would not get much... things have taken a turn for the worse..
"(F/N)!" Speak of the devil, he was coming...and like usual, he was furious at you for something. In the blink of an eye, he had flung open your door and stormed over to you with a crazed look on his face. Choking on your fear, you pulled on that emotional mask as be began to yell and scream in your face for something that had happened two days ago, but you tuned him out until he gave you a punishment or a "chore" as he called it. Tonight's garbage night.
As you dragged the large trash bin to the curb through January's frozen snow, you took your time to let the cold air brush your (s/c) cheeks as you looked up at the starry sky. If it wasn't for the smell of the garbage, you wouldn't mind going out to take out the trash because this gave you a few minutes of freedom from the hell that was known as "home". Home was suppose to be where you could go to and feel safe, to relax from your fight against reality...but then again, we can't always get what we wanted...
Letting out a small puff of air that contradicted with the cold, you trailed your way back to the back door of the house. As you took off your shoes outside, you tried to turn the knob, but it didn't budge. Again, you jiggled the handle as you rammed your shoulder into the wood to try to open the entry way, but ended with the same results: the door staying locked with you outside in your pajamas. You knitted your eyebrows together in thought and confusion...you didn't lock it...Thinking of what could have happened, you scowled deeply at the door once you realized what happened:
You're father or step-mother locked you out. Again.
Glaring daggers at the door and through it at the inhabitants inside with (e/c) irises, you felt the familiar stinging sensation in your eyes as the hot tears began to stream down your face. Three year...that's how long you have put up with this bastard and his new wife, and you were sick of it. Everything you despised and that made you sick were what they were: greedy, shallow, selfish, close-minded, blind, in-accepting, judgmental, the list could go on. You were strong, but for how long? How long could you withstand those hits, those days you had to run out of the house, starving weekends...and having the people you care about taken from you?
Sitting on the ground, you leaned back against the wall as you let the anguish pour out in silent tears as the cold seemed to be warm now...welcoming...but this was just another night in your little life, and all you can do is try to survive...
Opening your eyes groggily, you heard a storm blowing outside the window of your room at your mother's. Just another "dream", or just memories that you would have. You had moved in with your mother about three months ago since you father kicked you out for "being disrespectful", but you couldn't have been happier...except for the fact that when you found out you had found half of your things scattered in the yard of your father's house as you were walking home from school.
Sighing as you shoved the thoughts from your head, you sat up and shuffled out of your room and down the stairs to make coffee. On the coffee machine, your mother had written a note in a somewhat hurried handwritten fashion: "Hey honey, we left early this morning to go to that out-of-state trip. Take care and try not to party hard with the cat and dust-bunnies.~ Love, Mom. "
Oh yeah, your mother, step-father, and little sister were going to leave for a few days and you got to stay and house-sit. As long as there was food and wi-fi, this was perfect. You now had the six-bedroom, two and half bathroom, two story house to yourself along with the flat-screen TV that your grandmother gave your family.
Before you could flop onto the couch, you heard three, frantic knocks.
Author's Note: Hey guys! I would first like to say sorry for not updating...at all...and also that I have been re-writing the story so hopefully it will be abit better and more detailed.
Second: Than you for reading and liking this. Thank you and I'll update soon!
