Puppy Boy

Chapter Two

I unplugged my alarm clock from the outlet next to my bed. My head was pounding, my eyes were bloodshot, and I felt as if a sudden gust of wind could immediately knock me over. I just felt basically, like shit. The night before, I took some sleeping pills, because my dad was banging on my door, demanding that I "get out of my room" "you lazy bitch,". Naturally, it was difficult to shut my eyes when my father was just outside of my door, harassing me. No one in this house ever sleeps when he's drunk.

I crawl out of bed, looking around my messy room. My clothes were scattered all over, regardless on if they were clean or dirty. I walk over to my closet and pull out a pair of skinny jeans, a basic black t-shirt, a red flannel; and my go-to, all-time favorite pair of vans. I slipped everything on putting some cover up on, and mascara before grabbing my hair brush and brushing my hair.

My mother walks into my room, with an unnerving swollen black puffiness around one of her eyes and says, "I have to head to work, just fix yourself up a bowl of cereal. I don't have enough time to make a proper breakfast for you, love. Your dad is down there making coffee; trying to fight his hangover."

"Mama, what happened?" I asked, walking over to her with some makeup and started helping her cover up the black eye.

I can tell she tried her best to cover it up, but it didn't work so well.

She sighed then said, "Your dad just got a little out of hand last night.. it's no big deal. You shouldn't be so good at hiding this stuff sweetie. I feel so bad."

I finshed covering up her black eye then said, "Mama, it's not your fault. You didn't know he would be an alcoholic when you met him."

She hugged me softly mumbling something about work, then left my room with a sad smile on her face. I grabbed my bag from the floor where I left it the night before and bounded down the stairs. A bowl of cereal was set out for me as I sat down across from my dad.

"Good morning sweetie," my dad said with a smile as I took my first bite of my breakfast.

I didn't say a word back to him. He's a deadbeat, and doesn't deserve my respect, especially after he hit Mom.

"I can't remember a thing from last night," he chuckled taking another sip of his coffee as I put my bowl in the sink. He made me sick. I couldn't even look at him, nor could I even try to eat in front of him.

I turned to him as I was walking to the door, "You shouldn't do this anymore. You hit mom again last night. What if you hurt her really bad? What if you hurt me really bad, again? This is getting out of hand," I ran my fingers through my hair in frustration, "You're just... you're a fucking mess. You're tearing this family apart, 'Dad'. You know, you'll always be my dad, but you'll never be my father."

He walked over to me, inching towards my face a little too close for comfort then snarled out, "Don't you dare tell me what to do young lady," his breath reeked of caffeine and alchohol. He pushed me against a wall and slapped me across the face, "I'm gonna have to teach you some discipline tonight. I'll be in your room at three like always. Don't be late."

He moved away from me, and I took this chance to run out the door and to my car. I held back disgusted tears and started to rub my now-reddened cheek. Quickly, I started pulling out of the driveway as my dad stood in the front doorway, watching me leave.

At the stop sign at the end of the road, I text my mom, sending her a message and asking her to bring me a change of clothes, my toothbrush, and my makeup to work later. No way in hell was I staying at home tonight after my dad threatened to hurt me again.

~~~

School is the worst thing in the world. There's so much shit that goes on, and the teachers don't even seem to care that half of the students are being bullied for what they look like, the grades they get, and the things they like. And when the teachers do decide to grow a pair and ask if we're okay, its not because the teachers actually care. Its because its the school administrators' jobs to ask. A mere obligation.