"This is your 6th time you got arrested this week!" my mother bellowed. "What happened to my sweet little girl who use to paint her nails pink? And wear little Barbie slippers and-" I cut my mother off. "First of all, I never painted my nails pink. Second of all, that all changed when dad died" I yelled. "Well I-" I cut her off again.
"No! I don't want to hear your lecture! I'm leaving! Goodbye Mother" I sneered her name as if it was a disease. You might think I'm a complete jackass. But, honestly, I'm not. Unless you piss me off.
Ever since my father died from a tragic car crash when I was 8, my mother started going to bars, getting drunk, and bringing random men home.
And in the morning, she would slap me and kick me a few times and then go back to bed. So when I turned 13, I got tired of it so I snuck out every time she left for the bar. Where did I go? I looked for a street fighting area I could take my anger out.
Well, I had to quit. Why? Because my mother forced me to move. We moved when I was 15. Only 2 years of training. Sucks right? Back to the story.
I walked out of the front door, slamming it so hard it fell off the hinges. What? I'm pissed. I balled my hands into fists. I didn't even have to look back to know my mother was left dumbfounded.
Tomorrow is my 17th birthday and guess what I'm getting?
A plane ticket to New York.
I know it's crappy because it's not edited. But I tried.
If you liked the preview, comment, vote and share for Chapter 1.
Bai Guys!!!