Gone

Chapter 2 [Blaze] On the Run

       People think I'm a fuck up. And I am. I don't fucking care about school, my family, or even myself. I only care about my friends. They're more like my family than my own parents, sad, isn't it? It's fucked. I have my friends back, and they have mine. At all times. That's just how it is.

        We stick together, you know, always stick up for each other and don't let anyone give us any shit for it. I guess you would probably call the group of kids I hang out with, fuck ups. Punks. Losers. Even drop outs. But they're not bad people. Yeah we all party, do drugs and drink, get as stoned and wasted as we possibly can, but it's just for fun. We have a good time as much as we can because for us, we don't know when something bad is going to happen.

       So we like to make the best of our lives.

    I'm seventeen. I ran away from home so many times I lost count. The main reason why I'm always at my boys houses is because I hate being at my own. I get hit by my dad, almost daily. He gets drunk and he gets pissed, so he takes out his anger on my face. 

      There were times when I was a little kid where my mom wouldn't let me leave the house. She told me she didnt want people at school to ask questions. She said that teachers will send a social worker to my house. She didn't want me to get taken away. You know the funny thing, though? I wish I could make that happen. And I know I can. I'd probably get placed into a foster home but who knows where the hell that will be. 

      It's not like I've never been punched before, because I have. I get into fights way more than any of my friends do. But having my own dad hit me, that doesn't feel right. It isn't right. Most of my black eyes come from him. One day I know I'm going to lose it, and something bad is going to happen. And I can't wait til that day comes.

       My mom is cleaning the kitchen once I stand in the doorway, picking up all the beer cans and shoving them into the trash. There's even bottles of vodka and rum on the counter, so I know my dad must be home. Since I was just over at Xavier's place, I'm still pretty damn high from taking five of them perks, so this obviously isn't going to help the situation at all.

        She takes one look at me once I step further into the room, and then she quickly shakes her head. “Will you help me?” Her tone is nothing but emotionless.

       “Hi to you too,” I barely mumble, dropping my bag down on the kitchen table and walking over to where she's standing.

        “Please just help me clean this place, just for once...”

        I smirk in frustration, “I always help you. What the fuck are you talking about?”

      “Blaze. Please just watch your mouth,” she scowled, really heated. I understand that she is mad, mad that she has to pick up after my dad, but why the hell does she even stay with him?

       “Fine," I deeply breathe out, quickly rubbing my eyes with the back of my hand.

       “Get the broom and sweep up them pieces of glass,” she instructs, pointing over to the corner where a broken beer bottle is spread all over the ground.

       I shake my head in total anger as I frown, hating what this man keeps on doing to our family. “Yup,” I let out, doing as she says.

        “Where were you?” she softly questions me, as I turned to quickly face her.

         I roll my eyes as I sweep up the pieces. “At a friend's place, where I usually am.”

       Silence fills the room for a while. “What were you doing?” She unexpectedly asks me, as if I'm really going to actually tell her.