~THIS BOOK IS CURRENTLY BEING EDITED~
Highest Rankings:
#1 in Xanax
#8 in Parental Abuse
18+ This story does contain mature topics.
Some topics make be triggering.
Sierra Marks grew up sad and depressed while being raised by her drunk father after...
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"Of course I ended up here." I mumbled out loud and threw my hands up into the air as I looked up at the house I've lived in for the last 10 years.
It took me almost 2 hours to walk here from the hospital and wasn't even paying attention the whole way. I just let me feet carry me.
I stuck my hand in my purse to dig for my keys and felt my phone vibrating. I pulled it out along with my keys as I walked up the steps to the front porch. I looked down at the screen.
3 missed calls from Zion 2 missed calls from Kenzie
It was after 3, so schools out.
I rolled my eyes and stuck my key in the front door and twisted the nob. As soon as I pushed the door open I was hit by the worst smell I had ever smelt in my life.
"Oh ew what the fuck is that!" I yell as I slap my hand over my nose. I took a few steps back away from the door. I leaned my head around the wall to look inside the house.
It was destroyed.
There were broken beer bottles and trash everywhere. Broken glass at the bottom of the stairs. And it was extremely hot inside. I walked in leaving the door open to help get rid of the smell and.
I turned off the heater and went into the kitchen to see all the cabinet doors and the drawers were open and every dish broken on the floor. Food smeared on the walls.
That's probably the smell.
I climbed the stairs up to my room, being careful to avoid the glass on the stairs. The door to my room was closed. When I opened the door I expected it to look like the downstairs. But it looked exactly how I left it yesterday. I walked down the hall to my father's room and it was normal too.
Why is the downstairs trashed? But not the upstairs? I was just here yesterday and it didn't look like this. Or smell that bad.
My phone started vibrating again. Zion. I shoved the phone back in my purse.
I really want to be left alone right now.
I made my way back downstairs and grabbed a unbroken bottle of vodka from the coffee table and took a big gulp. I loved the feeling of the burn go down my chest.
I threw my bag on the desk by the door and pulled my cigarettes out, walking onto the porch, lighting one.
I stood in the corner of the porch and leaned my head against the wall of the house and closed my eyes.
