Just How Life Is.

Just How Life Is. Chapter 8

**Troy’s P.O.V.**

Her eyes were just so beautiful. I felt that if I looked too long I would get lost in them. But then a little surprise came when I found that I had a cut on the back of my head, and then thoroughly snapped at her when she asked that question.

 “How are you getting all of these wounds anyway?” she had asked. But it hit a nerve and I snapped. I was so frustrated with myself. Why could I just not talk to people?

 I noticed her walk up to me after I just punched a locker. She fumbled over her words, asking if I was ok. She’s just so cute. She was looking down, but I moved her head up so I could look at her wonderful face.

I asked her to meet me at a coffee shop in town center after school. I figured it was time to open up to someone, and she seemed the most trustworthy. I sighed as memories started flooding through my mind.

It started off slowly. Mom had left when I was seven, but I had no idea why. She just hugged me goodbye and left without a word to my father. At first he mopped around, but then he started drowning his sorrows in alcohol.

I remember that first day so clearly. It was when Skye and I were still friends. One reason I was her friend was because no one else would talk to her. This was before she met her other friends.

We were running around the playground, just laughing and being carefree.

“When do you think your mom will come home?” she asked, in an innocent voice.

“I don’t know. I hope soon, dad’s been acting weirdly,” I said, with a goofy little kid grin. Then her mom walked up to us.

“Skye, it’s time to go home,” she said to her baby.

She looked up at her with big hazel eyes. “Ok mom!” then she ran over to me and hugged me. “I’ll see you tomorrow, ‘kay?”

I nodded and waved goodbye. Even then I thought she was beautiful.

Then I went over to the curb and waited for my dad to come pick me up. Ten minutes passed, then twenty, then it became over half an hour. I started to get scared, wondering where he could possibly be. My house wasn’t too far away so I just decided to walk home.

I pushed open the front door to our house. All the lights were off, but I spotted my dad laying on the couch, empty beer bottles on the floor. I walked up to him, worried.

“Daddy?” I asked, quietly, pushing on his arm. He turned over and groaned, his blood shot eyes spotted me and he gave a creepy smile.

Slowly he sat up, his eyes not leaving mine. “You, you have her eyes. It sickens me.”

“Wha…?” was all I could manage. Then he picked me up by the back of my shirt and held me up to his face. His foul breath tickled my nose with a sting.

I dangled and struggled but he kept his grip even though it was hurting my throat. Then suddenly he threw me to the ground with a thump. I let out a small whimper as my eyes started watering.

“Why?” I said quietly. But it didn’t stop him.

I often wonder that maybe my mother left because my father beat her too. I would always say to myself “Crazy plus Alcohol plus Anger = DANGER, DANGER!”

I didn’t go to school the next day, it hurt too much to move. But when I did come back Skye ran up to me worriedly.

“Where were you? And what happened to you?!” she said, her eyes big and fearful as she looked me over. I couldn’t take to see her that sad, so I just walked away from her and stopped talking to people.