The Calm before the Storm

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I'm not going to sugar coat any of this. My life here at 701 Bushrow Drive isn't rainbows and unicorns. I don't know what a happy family is. I never have and I don't expect to ever know in the future. Hah! That's another I should mention; my future. I don't plan on having much of one. Two weeks from now I'll be 17 and I don't plan on living past that.

There's only so much a girl can put up with. The bullying at school is expected. I mean, I wear second-hand clothes, keep my head down, hoodie up and I avoid talking to anyone and everyone; teachers included. I get good grades. That may be the only thing I'm good at besides being the worlds greatest punching bag to my amazing (sarcasm intended) stepfather, Bobby.

Bobby. His name alone turns my stomach into knots.
My mother left my birth father when I was four years old. Unfortunately, when she left, she took me with her. She met Bobby four years ago when I was 13. She was beautiful and caring before Bobby. Bobby got her hooked drugs and alcohol. That's how she died; she overdosed on heroin two years ago. Bobby blames me for it even though he supplied the drugs for her and literally tied the tourniquet around her arm and injected it into her veins.

I'm currently walking home from school. I'm already ten minutes late because of getting picked on by the bullies at my school. For every minute I'm late, is another welt laid onto my backside. I'm slowly running. I look pathetic. I'm terrified but at the same time numb. Bobby has that affect on me. The last time he had beaten me bloody with his belt was four nights ago and it's going to happen again. There's nothing I can do. I broke one of his rules and now I'm going to be punished by him for it. I finally turn around the final block in my neighborhood and our rundown house comes into view. Everything in me is shouting at me to run the opposite direction but that'll only make things worse.

I run up to the porch and the front door is swung open before I can grab the handle.

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