Better things

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Okay guys so here's my new story. It's not a fanfic but I think I have a good story line, so I hope you like it. Vote and comment. (:


It was the same routine as always. I got up, got ready, and slapped on a fake smile for the ride to hell, also known as school. Dad had become accustom to driving me after he got his new job and the mornings were the only time we saw each other.

He would complain the whole 30 min ride about how my brother and his "girlfriend" needed to find a new place to stay if they didn't start helping pay bills or cleaning house. It was literally a daily routine.

That day, I was feeling especially pissed at the world because the night before I walked in on my brother sticking a needle in his arm. Dad knew he did this and always said he'd do something but never did.

So dad was on his normal rant. "I'm just tired of coming home and nothing being done. We live in a pig pin." Which is completely not true. My dad was OCD and a clean freak so having the least bit dirty would bug the shit out of him. "Kim needs to get a real fucking job and your brother needs too also. He's 28. 28! And still lives with his dad. Pathetic."

I was about to blow. You'd think after telling him about how all the stress was affecting my school work and other things, he'd fix shit, but no. He was all bark with no bight.

"And that room of his. I can smell the filth from the-" this was it. I was going to blow. I couldn't even process his words. All I heard was him bitching.

"DAD!" He had just parked in the school parking lot. He looked at me wide eyed and in shock. "STOP FUCKING COMPLAINING ABOUT SHIT AND THEN NOT DOING ANYTHING ABOUT IT." He was breathing heavy as if I scared him. I was the youngest and always sweet and all that shit. I was daddy's little girl. "AND IF IT DOESNT CHANGE..." I took a breath and lowered my voice. "I'll move in with my mom." That was a blow. I knew it was. My mom and dad had a nasty divorce when I was 2 so I hadn't seen or heard much from her, but she always wanted me to live there with her and my "step dad".

His eyes weld up with tears and he clenched the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white. I got out of the car and slammed the door behind me. Before I knew it, I was standing on the side walk watching him from the windshield. I didn't know why, but I stood and watched him. He did the same.

His eyes went from hurt, to pissed in the matter of seconds. He backed out of the parking lot in a hurry. Speeding as he went down the road, he didn't stop at the stop sign. And neither did the truck that hit him head on.

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