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-Tiffany ;-x
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I growled at my alarm clock that now was smashed into seven different pieces that were scattered below the wall I had thrown it at. Ya, Im not really a morning person, or a night person, or a day person... Hmm I wonder what that makes me? I groaned and tossed the pillow over my head to block out unwanted sound and light. But my stomach was protesting my laziness and as much as I would have liked to ignore it, I couldnt really throw myself at the wall hoping that it would shut me up. Well... I could but Im not so sure im up for that, instead I just turned over and snuggled down. Except now I was on the floor with a sore butt, and a really bad head-ache. I sighed and climbed to my feet and crept down to the kitchen in search of anything edible. My stomach growled fiercely and a rumbled shook my body. I giggled breathlessly and poked my tummy, trying to tell my body to keep quite. I grabbed a cold pop tart and munched on the bland crust that had no filling nor frosting. I still had an hour before school started so I decided now was the perfect time for cartoon watching. I bounce silently over to the TV and flipped through the channels before finding the perfect cartoon.
Loony Rooms!
'Bug's sighed dramatically as Dafey unwrapped his new 'perfect' beak job. Dafey smiled arrogantly as Bugs jaw dropped, "Dafey, What happened to your nose?" Bugs asked, horrified. Dafey stared at him in confusion before rushing over to the hall mirror'
Im pretty sure I was smiling like a bloody idiot the entire show. But the smile fell from face as I heard heavy foots steps tromping down the stairs. It was my father and all he was wearing was his Smiley face boxers. I crinkled my nose in distaste, he glanced over and glared at me menacingly, "What are you looking at kid?" He said stumbling slightly and squinting against the glare of light that shone through window. I shook my head and shrugged hoping to appear causal and not shaking with terror. The night since he had first come home wasted had become a new family tradition, he would pick a fight, leave, come back stuck outta his mind, my mother would start were they left off, and both of them would throw things, my mother usually went strait for our cheap China dishes and father would grab the nearest thing. And every day I would have to remember to put on shoes or risk the chance of getting another glass shard stuck in my foot.
My father shook his head in annoyance, at the blinding light or at me, I'm not sure but I assume it was the latter. I got up from the couch, needing to move and also I was practically dying from thirst. I thee my best to keep out of my fathers way but withbthey way he was stumbling and swaying I accidentally bumped into him. Which did more harm to me than him, my hip slammed into the corner orlf the cheep wooden counter tops. I whimpered and my hands instantly flew to my hip, clutching it as if the pain would dissolved. My father growled and his eyes light up in anger, I shook in fear and pain. " You clumsy little bitch, can you stop for a moment and check your goddamn feet!" He shouted and then he did something that I never would have even considered a possibility.
He hit me.
Not in the face but he swung is fist back and punched me staint in my stomach. The pain was immediate, like having the air disappeared around you and no matter how many times you swallow you come up breathless. My knees buckled and I fell to the ground clutching my stomach, still gasping for air. Tears slide hot down my cheeks as the pain throbbed in my stomach, I have never been punched, and it is not something I recommend. My father stood above me, different emotions flitted across his face, but he just stood their, watching as I cried in pain still catching my breath. A few moments of watching me he walked away with a beer in one hand and a pastry in the other. Withought glancing at me he spoke calmly , his voice drained of any emotion, "Better hurry, school starts in twenty." I cryer harder, rocking myself soothingly, waiting for both the emotional and physical pain to dull. When did my life get so screwed up?
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I got a few confused glance from teachers even some sympathetic, but from my classmates I heard snickers and whispers about my 'new' fashion. I ignored them, I was too numb, too uncaring. There was a faint ringing that echoed in my ears, and my eye were to dry to be comfortable. In others words I was an emotional reckless inside but I put on a cold front like any other day. Except it wasn't any other day, my father just punched me only three hours ago.
For lunch I didn't bother to try and make my way to the lunch room, my appetite had dissolved to nothing and now I was feeling sick. I walked lazily over to my secret spot in the west wing and laid back in the over grown grass. I watched the thin layer of clouds move across the sky, only a few minutes remained of lunch and I realized, I had no intention of going to my afternoon classes. I took out my iPod and flipped through my endless playlists before settling for my new infatuation, 'One hundred sleepless nights' By Pierce the veil. The music started of edgy and his voice was sweet and perfect, the first time I'd heard the band I'd fallen helplessly in love with them. And not even the events of this morning could change the peaceful feeling that the sound left behind long after the song had ended. Even with my earbuds in I could her the shrill shrieking the schools bell produced. The reasonable and responsible part of me screamed at me to get my butt strait to class, but as I was finding out, that voice inside off me was easily dominated by my more careless, reckless side.
I easily got bored of watching the slow moving clouds work their way across the sky. I let myself think of this morning, it didn't have to change everything, maybe he just lost his temper. He might not love me but Shirley he didn't want to hurt me.... right? Deep down he must love me, I'm his blood and flesh, his daughter.
I spent the rest of forth period trying to convince myself that it was a slip up, that it wouldn't happen again. Yet no matter what I said I could feel my stomach grow nauseous by the thought of going home. The bell rung loud across campus, making me jump slightly. With a irritated sigh I jumped to my feet and made my way over to my last class, art. The halls were already deserted and doors were already shut. U walked down my lock, twisting the combination into the lock and pulling out my pencils and portfolio. No since in going if your not prepared.
I took a deep breath and opened the door, causally walking in. As I had feared, the entire class was staring at me, a few people snickered and wishpered to their friends. Mrs. Measner raised her head up to me my eyes, and her mouth tightened into a thin line. "Your late Scarlet, your excuse?" He voice was short and cool, all her pity for me washed away. I've always thought it was stupid to ask me questions, I can't answer them anyhow. I raised an eyebrow at her and shrugged my shoulders, taking my seat in the back corner. She muttered something under her breath that didn't sound complimentary. "Today we're drawing something that has changed us as a person, whether for the best or the worst. You have 40 minutes to complete as much as of it as you can." She said loudly and strode back to her desk and turned on a light instrumental soundtrack. I had almost froze, something that changed us? Well Ive had many, but only one was on my mind, still fresh with sharp jagged pain. Tears gathered the edges of my eyes and I wiped at the furiously at them, pain building in my chest. I grabbed a clean, milk white paper and slapped it down on the desk. I stroked the pencil across the page, not really looking to closely at the figuare that glared out from the stark white page.
A girl formed on the page, she was crying, her eyes were so sad, it was unblievable that this had come from me. The girl looked like she was lying down, her eye directed to the floor below her, like she couldn't believe what had happened either. Even with my sloppy strokes and unsteady hand the girl looked a lot like someone I knew. The girl was me, and she showed every pain that I hide, it was like seeing the weakest part of me in the mirror.
It was terrifing.
Mrs. Measner walked by paising people and giving little suggetions here and there, eyeing some, not bothering to look at others. She walked past me, without look and then did a double take and rushed over, her eyes scoping the entire page. I felt a small inkling of satisfaction, but the more she looked, the more nervous i became. What if she caught the resmblence? Would she want to know what was going on? Or would she leave it without another thought. Would I want her to?
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I walked slowly back to the house, my stomach in knots and a major head-ache was forming. The closer I got the faster my breath came, and the harder my heart pounded, it probabloy looked like i had just run a mini marathon. My house came in veiw and I froze, my heart slowed, almost to a stop. All the cars were gone, the lights were off and it was perfectly peaceful. Something was wrong, it haden't been like this for weeks, even before the physical fighting, they were always arguing and screaming. But now it was like it was a bad dream. And somewhere deep inside me I true wished that mom would come runing out and hug me and tell me everthing was okay, that I would never have to feel the pain they have put me through again. Part of me was still that little girl that hoped everthing would be okay and that they still love me. But the other, numb, cold, and uncaring part didnt care what the hell happened, she just wanted to make it out alive, even if that ment, bloody and broken. I slowly carfully made my way into the house, stopping to check for movement or noise. But nothing popped out from the dark, nothing flitted into the shadows. I was safe, well as safe as I could be in my own house. Still kind of causious I crept into the kitchen and looked over my shoulder for the forth time in the last minute. Once I was finally sure the house was clean of any monster, boogymen and worst of all, My parents, I setted with a blood orange and some Jersey shore. I relaxed into the couch, my eyes felt heavy and scratchy, I muffled a yawn with my hand. I curled my legs into my chest relexing my head on the back of our, grey, worn couch. My heavy eyes lazily traced the worn woven stitches until keeping my eyelids from dropping like shutter blades become a full time job.
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