The Little Secrets

Ch. 1- Intro

Warning: do not copy , any copies can be punished by law.
Hey everyone. Just a little heads up im new at writing. So vote and comment please and let me know what you think. Dont be too harsh:)

     "Karlie!!" I heard a shout at the top of the steps. I jumped off of the quilted purple and white bed set my mother bought me and threw the cigarette I wasn't supposed to be smoking in my coffee mug that was on the lamp stand. Running to the end of the steps I knew he was coming, the man I dreaded the most. I can hear his footsteps coming down the steps and soon I see his black studded boots, then his dark blue ripped and oil stained jeans tucked into them. Three more steps I see his belt. That green John Deer sign that's always plastering bruises on my body. A few more steps and I see his white button up shirt tucked into the jeans. His collar. Atlas, his face, my father has blonde hair and blue eyes like me.

    He's got a tense looking jaw and deffinitly not an ugly man and I can't blame my mother for falling inlove with him. He used to be a big family man until he got into whiskey and drugs. I don't mind him smoking pot because I do. Also, marijuana cant kill you. He has this new addiction though. Heroin. Its ruined his life since he's started, about a year ago. He started slapping me and my mother around when he started drinking. When he started heroin it got worse. Everything ticked him off.

"Yes?" I said as my hands started quivering. I fidget with my long blond hair. I kept my eyes directed at his feet. He sees it as disrespect to stare someone in the eyes.

"All of the dishes need to be done, we have company coming over and I expect you will be doing them soon?" He has a raspy voice and his eyes are bloodshot. I noticed myself staring at him.

"Let's go! Now!" He raised his voice turning around I scampered up the steps behind him.

Our kitchen is right when you walk upstairs from the basement. We have a big island in the middle with four thick wooden stools. Also known as our dinner table. The living room is to the left of the kitchen. My parents room, guest room and bathroom are to the right from the kitchen down the hall.

I walked around the island and looked at the sink. It's filled with disgusting dishes and even have scraps left on them. My fingers landed on the wooden stool and I could feel the engraved designs on the back of the seat, as my fingers swirled with the leaf engraved shapes I continued to walk toward the sink.

   I started scraping the left over food into the garbage and sticking the plug into the sink, I stared at my mom as she walked from the back bedroom. The red finger print marks on her wrists looked as if they hurt to touch. Her upset face made my heart break for her, for us. She kisses me on the cheek and walks to the coffee pot pulling her blue and black checkered sleeves down.

My mother is a very beautiful women. She has this perfect model face long and skinny with short dirty blonde hair. She's had a very tough life since she gave birth to me.

     I put all the dishes in one side and started filling it with steaming hot water. Under the sink was the soap as I squeezed some onto the dishes as the hot water did its job to bubble the watermelon scented soap. I jumped to the sound of hard knocks on the front door. Shortly after the door had opened and my heart filled with joy. A permanent smile plastered on my full pink lips.

My Uncle Mark and Aunt Julie walked into the house and My heart starts skipping beats. When these two come over I have "free time" from the screaming and the abuse. Our family actually has a good time when they come over. My mother greeted my aunt Julie with a petite hug, it almost looked fake. When they come to visit and have dinner, my parents act completely different. Still strict but they never treat me bad in front of them. I wish I could tell them. Tell them how I'm not happy, how my father has become insane and a drug fanatic. How mom cries every night as I hear her sobs when she runs to the bathroom to get away from him. I wish I could tell them the true story. Instead of living like a dollhouse. Aunt Julie walked up to me with a huge smile.