Party at my place.

Chapter 2

Tuesday (Travis' pov) [tw abuse]

Slowly I brush my hands against the grass. It tickles my fingers a bit so I pull back in a start, "what's wrong Travis sweetheart, did you get stung?" I look up to the source of the voice, I gasp at the face that greets me "Mom?" A choked sob breaks from my lips, she brushes her dark brown hair behind her ear, some of it had grey streaks in it from age. As she brushed it back it revealed more of her glowing brown skin there wasn't a scratch on her. No black eye or broken nose, I smile widely at her "I thought I'd never see you again, mama" she smiles back, I walk towards her but suddenly her expression changes into one of terror, "Travis wake up" I become puzzled "But mama" she seems to get further away, her image warping "Travis now!"

I jolted awake, tears I didn't know were there streamed down my cheeks, making my face hot and my eyes sting "Travis you pathetic excuse for a son, I won't tell you again. Wake up!" I jump to my feet too fast, stars appear in my vision and I fall back down onto my bed. I rush to dress myself while sitting on my bed, I throw on white button down and some brown corduroy pants, I put my old beat up purple jumper on top. I can't bring myself to get rid of it, it was the last thing my mother gave to me before she disappeared. I put on my cross necklace making sure it's visible over my clothes, then I slip into my green shoes lacing them up sloppily. I run to the bathroom to fix my hair quickly, I don't want to keep my father waiting more than I already have.
I quickly straighten my curly dyed blonde hair, something my father requires me to do, he tells me if I didn't then I'd look "Just like that skank whore" . I hate the way he talks about my mother. I burn the tips of my fingers a few times on the straightening iron.

I stubble down the stairs almost tripping on my lace that had come undone. As I enter the kitchen I am met with a sour look, "What took you so long, huh boy?" He says sternly, he's holding a plate that has some eggs and bacon on it. "I, um had trouble with the straighteners" I mumble, father looks rather displeased with this answer "speak up, boy" he throws the plate and it narrowly misses my face, he looks more displeased now. He backs me into one of the corners of the kitchen, "Speak up next time, brat" he shouts and socks me in the face right in the left eye. I wince at the impact and try so hard not to scream or cry, he slams my head against the kitchen wall and just tuts at me before leaving. I cook myself breakfast and clean up the plate that he threw, I eat in silence the eggs are rubbery and metallic tasting and the bacon is chewy. Once I'm done I clean up my dish, grab my bag and my keys then head out towards school.

School is boring, no sally face to pick on and no Larry to avoid. Hopefully they're both in school tomorrow. I kinda miss those freaks.