I'm sneakily looking off my stairs at my dad, who was stumbling in drunk. I usually don't watch him, but he was a lot louder this time. He tripped and his bottle of tequila crashed against the tile kitchen floor. He started screaming at my mom. I hear his words piercing my emotions and hiding in my thoughts, "God damn it bitch, come down and clean this fucking mess up! You are a lazy whore aren't ya!" With that message, my mom running down the stairs, trying to protect me from being beat. He raised a hand at my mom because "She was too damn slow" and brought it down across her face. She started to cry, not even looking up at him, knowing it would only cause her to get hit again. Then he got bad, he choked my mom, pinned her against the wall. Then her tore her panties off. She whisphered "No Mark, please don't.."tears strolling down her cheeks. I jumped up and screamed no, my dad turned towards me, and punched me in the face. He pressed his boot in my throat, angrily sneering "If your rat faced little shit ass tells me what to do one more time. I will kill you. He pressed harder for a second and let go. He looked at my mom and stomped on my ribs. He walked out, my mother whispering "Don't go. Don't go out on your family like that...." I woke up sweating, and crying. I will never forget that day. And I'll never forgive him. I slipped on my jeans over my bandages, and cried putting them on. I pulled on a long sleeve shirt to hide the cuts on my arm, flinching with pain, now fighting the pain trying to get used to it. I went down stairs and heard a mans voice. It sounded like my dad. I grabbed my shoes and bag from next to my bed, and tried to slip out without him knowing. But my floor creaked on the third from last stair, he looked at me with eagerness. I tried to run out, but he caught me. He pulled me up by my collar, my feet dangling off of the ground. He threw his fist back, about to punch me, but a vase was in hand room, so I grabbed that and slammed it against his head. Hearing the glass shatter against the wood floor, I jetted out the door. I ran down the street, not knowing where to go or what to do. I automatically took two lefts and three rights, leaving me to Jack's house. God damnit, I couldn't even think of him right now. I knocked on his door, explaining to him that I didn't want to do this either, but I needed somewhere to go. I explained to him further, by telling him what happened. Then I ate breakfast, did my hair, and left with him. We walked in silence the whole way to school, not saying a word. Finally, a block from school, I turned to him, stopped him and placed my hands on his. "We need to talk."

Notes

Title credit to Of Mice and Men
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