Don't be scared ~ Diane Sherman

Welcome 'Home'

"Mom can you help me with this box" I yell from inside the dark moving truck. "MOM" I yell once again just to be left without an answer. Of course she wouldn't answer, she's too busy admiring the new house her husband, my step dad, built for us.

I cluster all my energy and lift the cardboard box off the cold metal floor of the truck. Carefully, I take hard steps, emerging from the back of the truck.

The light from the cloudy sky shines onto the box, bringing light to what it contains, books, great. Why do I even try? if they want the books so bad they can get them their selves. I wipe my dusty hands onto the rough fabric of my jeans and take in my surroundings, still standing in the back of the truck. It's trees, they go forever. I only seen one other house on my way in here. It was a beautiful two story home, accented with green shutters and beautiful architecture pillars supporting the grey shuttered roof, out front was a shiny beige Volvo and a wonderfully planted garden.

I sigh, thinking about all there is to my life now was trees and dirt, the green giants rustle in the wind and it dances past, sending a shiver to shoot through my body.

I jump off the truck onto the soft ground and desperately hurry into my new home trying to find any warmth.  

I rush through the door of my relatively small house, it consists of one story, two bedrooms, one bathroom and a open concept living room and kitchen. I hadn't any say on one aspect of the house, why would I? My mother sees me more a tag along other than a daughter. She's never cared and after she married hank, my step father, it only got worse. She started drinking again after they got married, and he doesn't try to help her, he encourages her and drinks along. When they drink, they get violent, and since I'm the only one around they take it out on me.

As the warm air of the house hits my face, I feel a sense of comfort. I've never had to worry about not having enough to eat or not having a house, that's only because my mom enjoys those things as much as the next person, but if it was just hank and I, things would be different. My mother goes away on business trip every once in a while, and when she does I'm forced to stay with hank. He doesn't care for me, when he's around my mother he asks completely fake.

I look around the dimly lighted house trying to spot my mother, of course, she already has a beer in her and is sitting on the couch. Hank looks up from rolling a joint and gives me a death look, I rush past them, my feet hitting softly over the hard wood floor in the process and enter my new bedroom. I shut the door, careful not to slam it, and collapse on the cold floor.
My thoughts start to get the best of me.

Why is this my life, couldn't my mother have found a nice guy, why do they hit me, I'm a good kid.

Warm streams of tears pour down my temples into my hair as my mind runs free, I try to contain my sniffles the best I can, but small whimpers leave my mouth as I blame myself. "SHUT UP IN THERE OR ILL GIVE YOU SOMETHING TO CRY ABOUT" I hear hank slur from the living room, the smell of weed slowly overtakes the house as hank and my mother try to forget their wasted lives.

I lift my numb body off the floor and rummage through the boxes that hold my belongings in search of my teddy, I feel the soft cotton fabric of my childhood toy and carefully pull it out of the cardboard enclosure.

I hold the teddy close to my chest, letting the toy bring me comfort and security, an aspect my Mother failed to grant me with as a child.

Falling onto my twin sized bed that is pushed against the wall, the rock hard mattress hits against my fragile body. My eyes are stinging and my nose is congested. No amount of snuggles with my stuffed animal could help me with my problems, all i need is for someone to hold me, to protect me, to love me.

I pull myself onto my soft pillow, I've previously set up my bed in it's usual layout. I have one pillow for my head placed horizontally and another laid vertically, that I use as something to hug, I often rest my head over it, pretending it's the warm chest of a future lover.

I tug my thick blanket over my body and hold it just under my chin, I sigh contently as my body grows warm.

My problems slowly slip away when I feel myself zoning out from reality and slipping into the perfect life I've made in my head, one where no one hits me, or tells me I'm worthless, one where I'm loved.

I take one more deep sigh before i fall asleep at the depressing time of 7:30 pm.

A/N
If you're reading this, Thank you so much <3
Don't worry, Diane is soon to come :)
Please don't leave mean comments about my writing or ideas, it's just not nice and it truly affects me.