Can't Handle Me

This is a Holes Fanfiction. Squid/OC Pairing.

Does contain swearing and violence and a near rape scene.

I don't own anything to do with the movie Holes or the book. I only own my original character and my original scenes :) Thank you.

I've been meaning to post this for a while so here I go!! :)

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"Get up!" My bright green eyes, fluttered open in surprise as my bedroom door was thrown open. My father stood there, a lit cigerette placed between his lips as he glared at me.

"I said 'Get up'!" He yelled louder, his British accent strong as he stormed further into my room and dragged me out of my bed by my leg causing me to fall painfully on to the wooden floor.

"Get ready. I want my breakfast before you leave for work!" He yelled before he slammed the door shut behind him as he left my room.

I bit my tongue to stop myself from screaming nasty comments about him as I untangled myself from my sheets.

It was 4 o'clock in the morning and I had to be at work by 6. I worked in a small cafè in the main part of town which was at least a 20 minute drive on my motorbike.

I grumbled a few curses under my breath as I pulled myself to my feet and walked over to my shower.

I was born in London and once my little brother Ryan was born my mother decided that we should move away. That's how we ended up in Austin, Texas. Unfortunately, after living here for just over a year my mother died. She was walking home at night and was raped by a group of men and then they shot her.

After her death I had become a lot more rebellious and I was kicked out of school. I went from being at the top of my classes to being expelled. I even joined a gang at one point and they became my best friends.

Ever since my mum died last year my father had become... distant. It started with him drowning his grief with alcohol every night when he went to the pub. He then began to drink all the time, there is never a time when he wasn't drunk or high on drugs. He didn't work anymore so I had to work. He soon began blaming me for my mum's death and verbally abusing me. I could handle that. I learnt to cope with that but then things just got worse. I would've ran away as soon as the physical abuse began but I refused to leave my 10 year old brother Ryan to suffer the abuse instead. So I stayed. I stayed to keep him safe.

Once I had a quick shower I walked back into my room and pulled on a pair of black shorts and an off-the-shoulder black halter top. I braided my raven black hair so it fell over my right shoulder before I pulled on my converses and walked out of my bedroom.

I walked into the kitchen and saw my father sat at the table with a can of beer and a newspaper in his hands. He slowly looked up at me and his expression turned angry.

"You took your time, bitch." He snarled as he rose to his feet

I ignored him as he stomped up the stairs. I quickly began making his bacon when I heard him enter the room again. This time he wasn't alone.

His fist was grasping my brother, Ryan's shoulder in a painful grip as he dragged the 10 year old into the room and roughly forced him into a chair at the table.

My knuckles turned white as my grip on the spatula increased due to my anger. I hated seeing that man lay a single finger on my dear brother but if I stood up to him he would hurt Ryan more. Besides I always took the beatings for him anyway, whenever he would get blamed for doing something I would take the blame instead.