Madness erupted from him.
"You fucking whore! I hate you, why the hell do I have to live with you!?" he roared.
I make a bold move. "Well why don't you just kill me then? Just like you did to your wife!" He went quiet.
"How dare you mention your mother? I lov.."
"Bullshit you loved her. If you loved her so much why is she dead? Why did you kill her." I scream.
He put down his beer and stood up from his cheap, second hand couch. His apartment was a dump. Littered with beer bottles and junk food. My step dad was crazy. No doubt about it. Ever since my mother filed for a divorce, he snapped. That was the last day I ever saw her. He has held me in his apartment ever since. Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. He would find me. The cops haven't found him yet. Sometimes I just wish I could call 911 and this would all be over. But that's not how things work around here. Everyday is the same. He sits on his couch watching news reports drinking more beer then anyone I've ever seen. Then at around four, he gives the whole 'I hate you so fucking much' speech, hits me a few times then locks me in his bedroom. Amazing life isn't it? Not so much.
He took a few steps closer and stops just close enough for me to smell the alcohol on him. "Don't you ever talk to me like that again, or I just might kill you." he whispers then walks back to his couch. my head droops to look at the floor. Just my luck. I glance back up to make sure he can't see me before bending down to pick up the broken beer bottle.
He yells drunkenly from the kitchen. "Where the fuck did my wallet go?"
Little does he know I've been planning this moment for a little while. I smirk as I readjust the stollen wallet hidden in my bra.
"Did you look in your jacket?" I yell back.
Heavy footsteps come in my direction. He fumbles through a bunch of his crap on the floor with no luck.
"Where the fuck did it go?!" oops looks like he's mad again. He stands up and is once again up in my face. "You little bitch, give me my fucking wallet.
Here goes nothing.
I look up in confidence and smirk while looking at him eye to eye.
'I've had enough of this bullshit." I say as I grip the bottle and hit him in the head as hard as I possibly can.
He made one sound...thud. he hit the ground, out cold. I don't know if he's dead or not and at the moment I really don't care. There is only one thing on my mind.
Run
Run
Faster
Get away from here
Run
Run
Finally
Free...
Right?
~~~a.n.~~~
Ok so...for those of you wondering what has happened with the whole "murdered mother". the step dad killed her when she tried to file a divorce because of anger problems. now he is keeping his step daughter captive so he doesn't get caught by the police because nobody knows about the murder yet...they only think that she is missing. so I hope that clears up some qquestions. stay tuned
