I got home from Thomas Jefferson High School and threw my book bag on the floor, like usual. I walked into the kitchen, also like usual, to grab something to snack on. What was not usual, however, was my mom sitting at the kitchen table with my dad.
As far as I knew, my parents divorced 8 years ago and hated each other.
"Krisslyn?" my mom said to me. I sighed in response. I hated my full name, too girly. Everyone, except my grandmother, called me Kris.
"Mom," I replied back to her, "didn't I say to call me Kris?"
"Krisslyn is a beautiful name," my dad said, looking at me for the first time since I walked into the room, "You should appreciate you weren't named something else, like Martha."
I stared at him with hatred. "Do you really think you have the right to speak to me?"
"Why, yes. I am your father, you know," he said.
I laughed. "You're a shit father. You really expect me to even acknowledge you after you left us for 10 years? Try again. Why are you here, anyways?" I said. My father lived all the way in England, while my mom and I lived in good old Arizona.
My mom gave me dad an apologetic look, then turned to me with a smile. "Honey, we're moving to England."
I stood still, giving her a death stare. I saw her shrink back in her seat, but my dad didn't flinch. "With him?" I said, still looking at my mom, "With this piece of shit?"
"Krisslyn.." my mom warned me, sitting back up in her seat.
"It's fine," my dad muttered to my mom, then turned to me, "Yes, so you can start new."
"What do you mean 'so I can start new'?" I said, now glaring at him.
My dad cleared his throat, then said, "It's kinda obvious you have... let yourself go these past few years. So, we're going to enroll you in a nice private school in England, dye your hair a pretty honey blonde like it used to be, and remove all that metal out of you face. You'd never get a job looking like that."
I grabbed my hair. "No. NO! You can't do that to me," I said, backing out of the kitchen. As soon as my foot hit hardwood, I turned on heel and sprinted up the stairs to my bedroom.
Slamming my bedroom door, I sighed and walked over to my full length mirror.
I looked at my black mid calf combat boots, then at my black ripped skinny jeans. My eyes moved up to my Hollywood Undead concert t shirt form last summer, and then to my scarred arms and wrists. Then to my thick black eyeliner, complemented by my pale face, even though it was May. Lastly, I looked at my black, straightened hair. One lone tear trickled down my cheek. I wiped it away, looking at myself. This is Kris. They want me to be Krisslyn? Fine. I'll be Krisslyn.
Hey guys. If you read the summary, you know this is a story from another website that I was writing on. I didn't want to lose anymore progress, so I transferred it here. Sorry that the 'One Moment at a Time' update is delayed. This story will be updated on Sundays, which will be on time! lol, sorry about the other 2 stories and how I never update them on time. Well, I hope you enjoy this story. Please comment, like, favorite, and follow me! Also, check ou my other stories, 'One Moment at a Time' and 'Bidding My Life Away.'