Penitentiary- a place for people who have committed serious crimes.
That's what it's supposed to mean.
Not here.
"Why the hell am I here?! I didn't do anything wrong!"
"I know sweetie," my father says.
"Then what the fuck am I here for!?"
"You'll un...
I turn around and see my friend Clarissa waving me over.
"Hey, Clare," I sigh as I plop down next to her.
"Woah! What's got you all depressed lookin'?"
"Oh, you know. The usual. Just had another argument with my dad," I say casually.
"I bet you can't wait to move out of your old man's house," she laughs while taking a swig of a bottle of vodka.
"Yup. Just one more year in the hell hole then I'm out," I say as I grab the bottle from her and take a few gulps as well. Looking at the bottle I frown and hand it back to her. "Man, I need something stronger."
"Well, how about we go clubbing? We got our fake ID's so we can get in easy," she smirks while pulling out a cigarette and lighting it.
"Now that sounds fun," I smirk as I start getting up.
"Oi, where are you going? You just got here."
"I'm gonna pack a bag and tell my, oh so lovely dad, that I'm sleeping over a friends house," I smile mischievously.
She laughs for a bit and smiles. "And this Heartfilia is why we are the best fucking friends there is."
"What? Because we both do dumb shit together?"
"That and we've been causing chaos for everyone in Redwood since we came out," she smirks.
"That is very true," I chuckle. "I'll see you at your place in an hour."
I walk off, phone in hand, as I make my way down Pheonix Lane towards the house that I dread going to.
Don't get me wrong, the house itself is nice. It's just that my dad is always bitching about one thing or the other and since there is just the two of us, I get blamed for it. For example, there was this one time that I get home and my dad told me to pick up the house. I did as he told me. When I was finished, I yell that I'm done and going to a friends house. Now I'm gonna say this now. IT TOOK ME 3 HOURS TO CLEAN THAT HOUSE! When I get back home, my father grabbed me by the ear and pulls me to the kitchen just to see FUCKING DISHES IN THE SINK! I'm gonna say this once and only once...... I DID THOSE FUCKING DISHES SO I KNOW HE DIRTIED THEM JUST SO HE COULD FUCKING TELL ME SOME STUPID BULLSHIT! EVERYTHING THAT COMES OUT OF THAT MANS MOUTH IS SHIT! HE TALKS OUT HIS FUCKING ASS AND DOESN'T KNOW WHEN TO STOP!
I really need to calm down but what the fuck do you expect?! For me to just let it slide because he is my dad? oh no no no no no no. I straight up told his bitch ass that if he is gonna dirty fucking dishes and then say that I DIDN'T FUCKING DO THEM, THEN HE CAN GRAB A FUCKING DILDO, WRAP IT IN SANDING PAPER, AND SHOVE IT UP IT FUCKING ASS!
Say that I have anger issue if you want but my dad is a dick! He can be loving but he mostly just bitches about the stupidest shit just so he can hear his own voice. Now be honest with me, is it possible to love and hate someone so damn much? 'Cause if it is, then that is how I feel about my dad. Although, I gotta admit that it's more on the hate side.
I walk through the front door and see that my dad isn't home. Oh, thank the heavens. I walk up to my room grab a bag and put my charger, headphones, keys, hygienic stuff, a few potential outfits for tonight, pj's, clothes for tomorrow, shoes, wallet with fake ID, and a bunch of money. After double checking that I had everything, I write a note saying I'll be sleeping over a friends house and head for the door.
"Hello, my beautiful baby," I say to my dark blue triumph sprint GT.
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