I sat down in the only chair in my old, dirty house. My father looked at me with contempt in his eye’s like I was at fault for our poverty.
“you gonna’ find a job today?”
“Well it is pretty hard being 15 and all, why are you going to find a job today?” I knew it was the wrong thing to say as the words flew out. He smacked me across the face and it projected me off the chair then he spit in my hair.
“No you lil brat, I’m too good to work.” His words were slew together and some dribble was coming out the side of his mouth, obviously he had been drinking away our last few pennies at the local bar. I was still laying on the ground looking up at him with disdain, I would kill him if I had the chance but what would it be worth going to jail for life over him. All the while my mother was sitting on the bed, looking but not really seeing. I wanted to shout out at her, to make her see me, to see what he was doing. But all she saw was the love she had for her drunken husband that beat her every night. My mother had long ago lost her view to see the things wrong with her husband. My father, my natural father standing over me had two other children but one committed suicide after years of sexual abuse from the bastard, and the other was lucky enough to get taken away by child services. While all the time I was stuck in this demented household because they wanted to give him another chance, and because he knew he needed me for money, he never did long lasting physical damage. While the psychological damage was enough to last 3 lifetimes people couldn’t see it, so naturally people believe that I made it up.
“Get tha hell up you stupid lil brat”
I did, but very slowly to show some sort of contempt. He grabbed me by the front of the shirt, his breath smelled of a mixed assortment of drinks and cigarettes.
“Now listen up this is my household, you will listen to me and there will be no back talk of any kind” I just stared at him with hate in my eyes, and then an inkling came to me. Why couldn’t I be taken away? It wouldn’t be that difficult.
“Well this might be your household, but it’s a pretty shitty one.” I sneered at him. Hate seeped into his eyes , I knew he wanted to hit me.
“Come on you ass, you know you want to hurt me, to bend me to your way. So come on hit me you know you want to.” His fist twitched and was brought back a little bit, and then realization hit him. He pushed me back on to the chair.
“Shut up you stupid little bitch, I know what you are trying to do.” He smiled and spit at me again, this time missing.
“I’m going out” he yelled over to his wife
“have fun drinking,” I whispered.
He sneered “I will.”
I decided to go out to, it was midnight, but what the hell. I don’t have many friends, people usually try to avoid me because I ‘m poor so I don’t have the latest fashions and not to mention I have a bastard ex sex offender father. I did have one though; one person that loved me and showed devotion through the shit of my life and her name is Anabel. We meet every night in her apartment. I remember the night I met her so clearly, I was walking down the street and two men jumped in front of me.
“Hey there cutie” they were street walkers, looking for any girl to pass by them.
“How would you like to come to my house for a night.”
I was stunned, I am prepared for this sort of thing but I was just so scared. The bigger of the two grabbed my sleeve. Then the smaller one started to rip the button’s off my shirt and I couldn’t, feel my throat. At that time one of the most famous mobsters just so happened to walk by. Anabel, my savior just walked back, acting like she owned the entire place.
“Hi boys” the two men wrenched back to see who the surprise intruder was. She looked stunning, long, deep chestnut hair was flowing over her pale skin. Her blue eyes seemed to light the alley. She was wearing a black corset, and black pants with knee high boots. The men were stunned to see her, she was famous, huge in the mob business, she was a goddess to them.
“Oh hey Anabel, we aren’t doing anything.”
“Then give me the girl”
“Why? She is just a low life, not meant for anything.”
“She is important to me.”
“Do you know her?”
“Yes I do.”
Her voice was so confident, not a shred of fear as she attempted to save me. I instantly admired her. They gave me to her like I was a piece of furniture, something to be owned. She took me to her apartment. Even in only the few minutes they took me I was hurt, there were scratches on my arms and face, and my lip was busted. There were two people in the lobby and as each of them
I sat down in the only chair in my old, dirty house. My father looked at me with contempt in his eye’s like I was at fault for our poverty.
“you gonna’ find a job today?”
“Well it is pretty hard being 15 and all, why are you going to find a job today?” I knew it was the wrong thing to say as the words flew out. He smacked me across the face and it projected me off the chair then he spit in my hair.
“No you lil brat, I’m too good to work.” His words were slew together and some dribble was coming out the side of his mouth, obviously he had been drinking away our last few pennies at the local bar. I was still laying on the ground looking up at him with disdain, I would kill him if I had the chance but what would it be worth going to jail for life over him. All the while my mother was sitting on the bed, looking but not really seeing. I wanted to shout out at her, to make her see me, to see what he was doing. But all she saw was the love she had for her drunken husband that beat her every night. My mother had long ago lost her view to see the things wrong with her husband. My father, my natural father standing over me had two other children but one committed suicide after years of sexual abuse from the bastard, and the other was lucky enough to get taken away by child services. While all the time I was stuck in this demented household because they wanted to give him another chance, and because he knew he needed me for money, he never did long lasting physical damage. While the psychological damage was enough to last 3 lifetimes people couldn’t see it, so naturally people believe that I made it up.
“Get tha hell up you stupid lil brat”
I did, but very slowly to show some sort of contempt. He grabbed me by the front of the shirt, his breath smelled of a mixed assortment of drinks and cigarettes.
“Now listen up this is my household, you will listen to me and there will be no back talk of any kind” I just stared at him with hate in my eyes, and then an inkling came to me. Why couldn’t I be taken away? It wouldn’t be that difficult.
“Well this might be your household, but it’s a pretty shitty one.” I sneered at him. Hate seeped into his eyes , I knew he wanted to hit me.
“Come on you ass, you know you want to hurt me, to bend me to your way. So come on hit me you know you want to.” His fist twitched and was brought back a little bit, and then realization hit him. He pushed me back on to the chair.
“Shut up you stupid little bitch, I know what you are trying to do.” He smiled and spit at me again, this time missing.
“I’m going out” he yelled over to his wife
“have fun drinking,” I whispered.
He sneered “I will.”
I decided to go out to, it was midnight, but what the hell. I don’t have many friends, people usually try to avoid me because I ‘m poor so I don’t have the latest fashions and not to mention I have a bastard ex sex offender father. I did have one though; one person that loved me and showed devotion through the shit of my life and her name is Anabel. We meet every night in her apartment. I remember the night I met her so clearly, I was walking down the street and two men jumped in front of me.
“Hey there cutie” they were street walkers, looking for any girl to pass by them.
“How would you like to come to my house for a night.”
I was stunned, I am prepared for this sort of thing but I was just so scared. The bigger of the two grabbed my sleeve. Then the smaller one started to rip the button’s off my shirt and I couldn’t, feel my throat. At that time one of the most famous mobsters just so happened to walk by. Anabel, my savior just walked back, acting like she owned the entire place.
“Hi boys” the two men wrenched back to see who the surprise intruder was. She looked stunning, long, deep chestnut hair was flowing over her pale skin. Her blue eyes seemed to light the alley. She was wearing a black corset, and black pants with knee high boots. The men were stunned to see her, she was famous, huge in the mob business, she was a goddess to them.
“Oh hey Anabel, we aren’t doing anything.”
“Then give me the girl”
“Why? She is just a low life, not meant for anything.”
“She is important to me.”
“Do you know her?”
“Yes I do.”
Her voice was so confident, not a shred of fear as she attempted to save me. I instantly admired her. They gave me to her like I was a piece of furniture, something to be owned. She took me to her apartment. Even in only the few minutes they took me I was hurt, there were scratches on my arms and face, and my lip was busted. There were two people in the lobby and as each of them
I sat down in the only chair in my old, dirty house. My father looked at me with contempt in his eye’s like I was at fault for our poverty.
“you gonna’ find a job today?”
“Well it is pretty hard being 15 and all, why are you going to find a job today?” I knew it was the wrong thing to say as the words flew out. He smacked me across the face and it projected me off the chair then he spit in my hair.
“No you lil brat, I’m too good to work.” His words were slew together and some dribble was coming out the side of his mouth, obviously he had been drinking away our last few pennies at the local bar. I was still laying on the ground looking up at him with disdain, I would kill him if I had the chance but what would it be worth going to jail for life over him. All the while my mother was sitting on the bed, looking but not really seeing. I wanted to shout out at her, to make her see me, to see what he was doing. But all she saw was the love she had for her drunken husband that beat her every night. My mother had long ago lost her view to see the things wrong with her husband. My father, my natural father standing over me had two other children but one committed suicide after years of sexual abuse from the bastard, and the other was lucky enough to get taken away by child services. While all the time I was stuck in this demented household because they wanted to give him another chance, and because he knew he needed me for money, he never did long lasting physical damage. While the psychological damage was enough to last 3 lifetimes people couldn’t see it, so naturally people believe that I made it up.
“Get tha hell up you stupid lil brat”
I did, but very slowly to show some sort of contempt. He grabbed me by the front of the shirt, his breath smelled of a mixed assortment of drinks and cigarettes.
“Now listen up this is my household, you will listen to me and there will be no back talk of any kind” I just stared at him with hate in my eyes, and then an inkling came to me. Why couldn’t I be taken away? It wouldn’t be that difficult.
“Well this might be your household, but it’s a pretty shitty one.” I sneered at him. Hate seeped into his eyes , I knew he wanted to hit me.
“Come on you ass, you know you want to hurt me, to bend me to your way. So come on hit me you know you want to.” His fist twitched and was brought back a little bit, and then realization hit him. He pushed me back on to the chair.
“Shut up you stupid little bitch, I know what you are trying to do.” He smiled and spit at me again, this time missing.
“I’m going out” he yelled over to his wife
“have fun drinking,” I whispered.
He sneered “I will.”
I decided to go out to, it was midnight, but what the hell. I don’t have many friends, people usually try to avoid me because I ‘m poor so I don’t have the latest fashions and not to mention I have a bastard ex sex offender father. I did have one though; one person that loved me and showed devotion through the shit of my life and her name is Anabel. We meet every night in her apartment. I remember the night I met her so clearly, I was walking down the street and two men jumped in front of me.
“Hey there cutie” they were street walkers, looking for any girl to pass by them.
“How would you like to come to my house for a night.”
I was stunned, I am prepared for this sort of thing but I was just so scared. The bigger of the two grabbed my sleeve. Then the smaller one started to rip the button’s off my shirt and I couldn’t, feel my throat. At that time one of the most famous mobsters just so happened to walk by. Anabel, my savior just walked back, acting like she owned the entire place.
“Hi boys” the two men wrenched back to see who the surprise intruder was. She looked stunning, long, deep chestnut hair was flowing over her pale skin. Her blue eyes seemed to light the alley. She was wearing a black corset, and black pants with knee high boots. The men were stunned to see her, she was famous, huge in the mob business, she was a goddess to them.
“Oh hey Anabel, we aren’t doing anything.”
“Then give me the girl”
“Why? She is just a low life, not meant for anything.”
“She is important to me.”
“Do you know her?”
“Yes I do.”
Her voice was so confident, not a shred of fear as she attempted to save me. I instantly admired her. They gave me to her like I was a piece of furniture, something to be owned. She took me to her apartment. Even in only the few minutes they took me I was hurt, there were scratches on my arms and face, and my lip was busted. There were two people in the lobby and as each of them
I sat down in the only chair in my old, dirty house. My father looked at me with contempt in his eye’s like I was at fault for our poverty.
“you gonna’ find a job today?”
“Well it is pretty hard being 15 and all, why are you going to find a job today?” I knew it was the wrong thing to say as the words flew out. He smacked me across the face and it projected me off the chair then he spit in my hair.
“No you lil brat, I’m too good to work.” His words were slew together and some dribble was coming out the side of his mouth, obviously he had been drinking away our last few pennies at the local bar. I was still laying on the ground looking up at him with disdain, I would kill him if I had the chance but what would it be worth going to jail for life over him. All the while my mother was sitting on the bed, looking but not really seeing. I wanted to shout out at her, to make her see me, to see what he was doing. But all she saw was the love she had for her drunken husband that beat her every night. My mother had long ago lost her view to see the things wrong with her husband. My father, my natural father standing over me had two other children but one committed suicide after years of sexual abuse from the bastard, and the other was lucky enough to get taken away by child services. While all the time I was stuck in this demented household because they wanted to give him another chance, and because he knew he needed me for money, he never did long lasting physical damage. While the psychological damage was enough to last 3 lifetimes people couldn’t see it, so naturally people believe that I made it up.
“Get tha hell up you stupid lil brat”
I did, but very slowly to show some sort of contempt. He grabbed me by the front of the shirt, his breath smelled of a mixed assortment of drinks and cigarettes.
“Now listen up this is my household, you will listen to me and there will be no back talk of any kind” I just stared at him with hate in my eyes, and then an inkling came to me. Why couldn’t I be taken away? It wouldn’t be that difficult.
“Well this might be your household, but it’s a pretty shitty one.” I sneered at him. Hate seeped into his eyes , I knew he wanted to hit me.
“Come on you ass, you know you want to hurt me, to bend me to your way. So come on hit me you know you want to.” His fist twitched and was brought back a little bit, and then realization hit him. He pushed me back on to the chair.
“Shut up you stupid little bitch, I know what you are trying to do.” He smiled and spit at me again, this time missing.
“I’m going out” he yelled over to his wife
“have fun drinking,” I whispered.
He sneered “I will.”
I decided to go out to, it was midnight, but what the hell. I don’t have many friends, people usually try to avoid me because I ‘m poor so I don’t have the latest fashions and not to mention I have a bastard ex sex offender father. I did have one though; one person that loved me and showed devotion through the shit of my life and her name is Anabel. We meet every night in her apartment. I remember the night I met her so clearly, I was walking down the street and two men jumped in front of me.
“Hey there cutie” they were street walkers, looking for any girl to pass by them.
“How would you like to come to my house for a night.”
I was stunned, I am prepared for this sort of thing but I was just so scared. The bigger of the two grabbed my sleeve. Then the smaller one started to rip the button’s off my shirt and I couldn’t, feel my throat. At that time one of the most famous mobsters just so happened to walk by. Anabel, my savior just walked back, acting like she owned the entire place.
“Hi boys” the two men wrenched back to see who the surprise intruder was. She looked stunning, long, deep chestnut hair was flowing over her pale skin. Her blue eyes seemed to light the alley. She was wearing a black corset, and black pants with knee high boots. The men were stunned to see her, she was famous, huge in the mob business, she was a goddess to them.
“Oh hey Anabel, we aren’t doing anything.”
“Then give me the girl”
“Why? She is just a low life, not meant for anything.”
“She is important to me.”
“Do you know her?”
“Yes I do.”
Her voice was so confident, not a shred of fear as she attempted to save me. I instantly admired her. They gave me to her like I was a piece of furniture, something to be owned. She took me to her apartment. Even in only the few minutes they took me I was hurt, there were scratches on my arms and face, and my lip was busted. There were two people in the lobby and as each of them
I sat down in the only chair in my old, dirty house. My father looked at me with contempt in his eye’s like I was at fault for our poverty.
“you gonna’ find a job today?”
“Well it is pretty hard being 15 and all, why are you going to find a job today?” I knew it was the wrong thing to say as the words flew out. He smacked me across the face and it projected me off the chair then he spit in my hair.
“No you lil brat, I’m too good to work.” His words were slew together and some dribble was coming out the side of his mouth, obviously he had been drinking away our last few pennies at the local bar. I was still laying on the ground looking up at him with disdain, I would kill him if I had the chance but what would it be worth going to jail for life over him. All the while my mother was sitting on the bed, looking but not really seeing. I wanted to shout out at her, to make her see me, to see what he was doing. But all she saw was the love she had for her drunken husband that beat her every night. My mother had long ago lost her view to see the things wrong with her husband. My father, my natural father standing over me had two other children but one committed suicide after years of sexual abuse from the bastard, and the other was lucky enough to get taken away by child services. While all the time I was stuck in this demented household because they wanted to give him another chance, and because he knew he needed me for money, he never did long lasting physical damage. While the psychological damage was enough to last 3 lifetimes people couldn’t see it, so naturally people believe that I made it up.
“Get tha hell up you stupid lil brat”
I did, but very slowly to show some sort of contempt. He grabbed me by the front of the shirt, his breath smelled of a mixed assortment of drinks and cigarettes.
“Now listen up this is my household, you will listen to me and there will be no back talk of any kind” I just stared at him with hate in my eyes, and then an inkling came to me. Why couldn’t I be taken away? It wouldn’t be that difficult.
“Well this might be your household, but it’s a pretty shitty one.” I sneered at him. Hate seeped into his eyes , I knew he wanted to hit me.
“Come on you ass, you know you want to hurt me, to bend me to your way. So come on hit me you know you want to.” His fist twitched and was brought back a little bit, and then realization hit him. He pushed me back on to the chair.
“Shut up you stupid little bitch, I know what you are trying to do.” He smiled and spit at me again, this time missing.
“I’m going out” he yelled over to his wife
“have fun drinking,” I whispered.
He sneered “I will.”
I decided to go out to, it was midnight, but what the hell. I don’t have many friends, people usually try to avoid me because I ‘m poor so I don’t have the latest fashions and not to mention I have a bastard ex sex offender father. I did have one though; one person that loved me and showed devotion through the shit of my life and her name is Anabel. We meet every night in her apartment. I remember the night I met her so clearly, I was walking down the street and two men jumped in front of me.
“Hey there cutie” they were street walkers, looking for any girl to pass by them.
“How would you like to come to my house for a night.”
I was stunned, I am prepared for this sort of thing but I was just so scared. The bigger of the two grabbed my sleeve. Then the smaller one started to rip the button’s off my shirt and I couldn’t, feel my throat. At that time one of the most famous mobsters just so happened to walk by. Anabel, my savior just walked back, acting like she owned the entire place.
“Hi boys” the two men wrenched back to see who the surprise intruder was. She looked stunning, long, deep chestnut hair was flowing over her pale skin. Her blue eyes seemed to light the alley. She was wearing a black corset, and black pants with knee high boots. The men were stunned to see her, she was famous, huge in the mob business, she was a goddess to them.
“Oh hey Anabel, we aren’t doing anything.”
“Then give me the girl”
“Why? She is just a low life, not meant for anything.”
“She is important to me.”
“Do you know her?”
“Yes I do.”
Her voice was so confident, not a shred of fear as she attempted to save me. I instantly admired her. They gave me to her like I was a piece of furniture, something to be owned. She took me to her apartment. Even in only the few minutes they took me I was hurt, there were scratches on my arms and face, and my lip was busted. There were two people in the lobby and as each of them
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