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Fumbling Perfection (in the process of rewriting)

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Okay, so I've change this for anyone who has previously read it. =) Your comments gave me inspiration. Unfortunately, I didn't edit this yet. If you see any errors (spelling, grammar, or otherwise) let me know so I can fix it. =)

Thanks for your help so far!

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             I stared at the light fixture on the ceiling: one blinking light, one not blinking light. I counted the blinks as if they were ticks on a clock. It was difficult with the yelling in the other room. It was almost too much for me to bare for I knew any second he would be storming into my room. And then it would begin, the tortured routine that had become my everyday life. It was normal for me like walking a dog would be normal for any other teenager.

            Until then, I imagined shapes on the bumpy ceiling tiles, still counting the blinks. There was an elephant, one blink, a giraffe, two blinks, a nickel, three blinks, a house, four blinks, a taco, five blinks, a cartoon character I often saw sported on people’s clothing, six blinks. I didn’t get far. I never did get past ten.

            The door slammed open. He walked in. “Get up and study! I don’t pay taxes so you can sit on your lazy ass and do nothing all night!”

            “School hasn’t started yet,” I said softly. “I don’t have books or notes.”

            He came over to me, hauling me to my feet with a hand gripped tightly around my bicep. “You’re never going to amount to anything, understand? You’re going to be even more of a failure than you already are if you don’t study during breaks!”

            Of course, this was the stupidest thing that he could yell at me for. His temper needed no excuse, no reason. It was there and so was I. I didn’t know what to reply, so I stayed silent. If I couldn’t please him with my words, I would let him do all the talking. There was no point in arguing for it would only make what was coming for me worse.

            “Will you leave him out of this? He has nothing to do with any of our problems!” She walked in, yelling at him to stop. “Let go of him this instant!”

            He turned on her, glaring. “Don’t tell me what to do, woman!” he growled, his eyes full of rage.

            She flinched, but thrashed back at him. “Don’t yell at me like I’m not your wife!”

            “I don’t want you anymore!” he shouted at her. “Get out!” He gestured to the front door wildly.

            She stared at him, dumbfounded. Her bottom lip quivered. She turned to leave, glancing back at me to offer a sad, sorry expression. She wasn’t going to save me. Not last time, not this time, not ever.

            He turned back to me, gripping my arm tightly. “This time you won’t have a second chance,” he promised, his face close to mine. “I’m going to finish this tonight. And you won’t see tomorrow. Say goodbye to the sunlight, Jason.”

            I could smell the booze on his breath and body. It was almost too much to bare. I clenched my jaw tight to keep from vomiting. He had been drinking again and most likely planning. Again. This was his plan all along. Get me alone so he could finally finish me off. I knew it was coming, but I didn’t know when. Honestly? I was surprised I was able to survive this long. As he stared at me harshly, running through his plan again, I had a few regrets running through my mind.

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