"Go home, faggot!"
"God, look at that stupid little bitch."
"Kill yourself already."
I ignored the taunting voices as I made my way out of school. I tugged my sweatshirt over my pale,slim fingers as the cool air wrapped her chilly arms around me. A kid walked by, shoving my already bruised shoulder. I stumbled, and dropped my books.
I let out a swear as I picked up my library books; one of them landed in a puddle, result of the wintery showers we've had.
I wiped the water on my jeans and continue on. I walk home, to find my shabby house in uproar. My mother was leaving. I step hesitantly onto the creaky porch as she flings the screen door open.
A vase shattered over her head as my father missed and hit the wall. "Get back here, you whore!" he bellows. Momma gave me a look of deepest regret. "I love you darling," she says." I'll come back, I swear. Give me a month or two, and I'll get you out of here." She gives me a hug and a peck on the forehead and she's gone.
My father comes out onto the porch. Seeing me, he grabs my wrist and pulls me into the house, leaving more bruises on my underfed, pale body.
~
