Saviors (Completed)

2. Blue Eye

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...

Mistreated, displaced, misunderstood.

That was exactly how I felt.

I could just change my name to miss Nothing Good already.

I screamed in my pillow. Beyoncé bursted from my speakers, burning the screams away in their high spoken words. Luckly my parents weren't home. My mother were probably burring herself in paperwork and my father were without doubt sitting in some bar, drinking his brain out. If he still had one of course.

I twirled around, pulling the covers over me. My eyes were etching, because of all the tears they had manged to let out.

Mrs. Green had kicked us all out, including me. She was definitely angry, but why me? I hadn't done anything.

Why hadn't Cynthia slapped me? Did someone hold her back? And if so, who?

She had probably stopped herself. Wouldn't it ruin her reputation to slap someone in a Diner? Maybe.

As the song shifted and a old Katy Perry song came rushing, I hurried over to shift it off, not that I hate Katy, I just couldn't stand listening to anything anymore. I needed to be able to think. To write.

I sat down at my desk and found an old computer from my white painted drawer.

I inhaled sharply and flickered it open in an easy move. The screen lit up and asked for a password.

I wrote fast and soon I was in, ready to get my thoughts down on the screen, describing them with a sensitive touch and refreshing mind.

The words swung out. My fingers typed fast and rolled easily over the keyboard. I didn't have the urge to look at the keyboard, my fingers knew exactly where to place them self.

As I slowly developed a plot, my writing was more packed in and limited, however, it didn't stop me from breaking all the rules. Jumping out into something new. Something exciting.

It was a love story about two completely different people founding love in their darkest time.

It was surprising how I could easily write a beautiful dialogue, but when it came to speaking in real life, my words got stuck in my throat. I knew so many words, beautiful words, small words, big words, bad words, alluring words, I could go on, but still nothing.

The sun disappeared, leaving the stars to shine bright, framing the alluring moon. I took a glance out, noticing how beautiful everything was.

It was quite. My mother didn't yell at someone on her phone. My father didn't complain or threw plates on the wall while yelling something about all the drugs he had gotten together with his alcohol. For a moment I'd let myself enjoy being alive. Enjoy being here and having survived 5 years in Hell.

"Child!"

And it was over. Just like that. Snapped right before my eyes.

I sighed deeply, "yes?"

"Come downstairs," he yelled, followed by a late, "now!"

I didn't know what he had planned, but it couldn't be good. It never was.

I tramped down stairs, thinking all the possible scenarios through. I found him in the living room
His shirt was off and he swung around, aiming for the chair.

"You called, dad." My voice shook more than I liked. I already knew I was weak, he didn't have to.

"Indeed I did." He fell onto the chair and spread out his massive frame. His stomach turned into several massive fat rolls.