5. bad thoughts
Usually I'd walk around until i get home on most days, but today I didn't care. My dad would most likely beat me for not being at school, that I need an education. But I know the real reason was is that he didn't want to see me, whatever. I walked in like nothing happened and went straight to my room. " hey," my dad slurred threw a drunken voice " who's there" .i stood at the top of the stairs excepting the beating that was coming either if I hide or not. " me dad" I shouted back. His face popped out from the bottom of the staircase, oh yeah he was drunk. He held onto the beams for support for his drunken ass. " why the hell aren't you in fucking school" he was wobbling everywhere and could barley speak. Eh lie it's the best you can do " we we're let out early dad" he started to march up the stairs in anger " your lying you fucking slut, I'm not stupid" like hell you aren't. He ran right up to me and grabbed me by my hair " you don't lie to your father" he shouted, his breath reached of alcohol, it made me want to puke. He punched me repeatedly in the stomach, until a women shouted out his name " rob, rob were are you, I'm lonely" that was defiantly not my step mom. But I didn't care who she was because he released my hair." I'll be right there just one minute" he yelled back. You could hear footsteps walk away and he turned to me " you be quiet you hear?" I nodded my head slightly. " good I don't want you to disturb" he gave a crooked smile and grabbed my wrist. I winced in pain because of my cuts, but he didn't care. He pulled me down the hall and pushed me into my room. I stumbled back and hit my head on the wall. And with that he laughed as he turned and left. I ran over to my bag wasting no time grabbing my headphones, if they're doing what I think they're doing I do not want to hear them. I turned the music up full blast in my ears, just make sure, and walked to the bathroom. As slowly and carefully as I could so I didn't make a sound. I closed and locked the door then went to my drawer, were I keep my razors. I rolled up my sleeves and took a razor in my hand."1-2 where were you, 3-4 slammed the door, 5-6 bunch of pricks,7-8 your too late, 9-10 it's the end,11-12 go to hell" I whispered to myself leaving a dash and a trail of blood with every number. I put the razor into the sink and turned on the water just enough to make a stream with out the loud noise of the water against the sink. I sat there and let my arm bleed out, drips fell off my fingertips and splattered in the sink, I just watched.
I wiped off the dry blood from my arm and hand and walked back over to my bed, I put my head in my pillow and let out soft, voiceless cries. I don't know why I'm here, I don't know why my father kept me, abuses me, touchers me. Or why anyone else touchers me for that matter , All i know is that I don't want to live my horrible, sad, mistreated life any more and it's because of them. I know that it's not gonna stop, no ones gonna make it easier so why bother trying? I give up, on everything and I don't want to do it anymore. Eventually I fell into a deep sleep, that hopefully I wouldn't wake up from.