Status: Complete: Planning a future re-write & re-post.
Demolition Lovers
Chapter Four
*~Flashback~*
I was fumbling around in my room, getting dressed so I could go out tonight. I got dressed my usual attire: blue jeans, black shirt, and my favorite belt and shoes. I headed downstairs, but I was cut off by my dad halfway down.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
“Out,” I said.
“With who?”
“I’m going out alone, since you won’t let me have a boyfriend. All my friends have boyfriends so I can’t go out with them,” I said.
“You look skanky,” he said.
“Dad! I do not! What’s skanky about this?” I pointed to what I was wearing.
“You are not going out! Go watch T.V. I ordered pizza for the family.”
“Why can’t I go out? This is not fair!” I shouted.
“Don’t raise your voice at me, young lady!” he shouted, slapping me.
“Don’t hit me!” I shouted.
“I’ll hit you if I feel like it.” He pulled me down the rest of the stairs.
I landed at the bottom of the stairs, hitting my head on the wall as I collided with it.
“Oh, come on, don’t be that rough with her,” my mom said. “She’s just a girl.”
“A little whore too!” my dad said, kicking me in the stomach, not really hard though.
He was about to kick me again, but the doorbell rang. Saved by the doorbell.
“Get up!” he shouted at me. “The food’s here and I don’t want anyone seeing you laying there. I might get in trouble.” He grabbed my arm and pulled me to my feet.
I grunted in pain and frustration as he opened the door.
“Good evening,” a voice that could only belong to a young guy said.
I turned and looked, seeing the most gorgeous delivery boy ever. His black hair hung into his face just a little, and he appeared to have his nose and lip pierced. His arms were covered in tattoos. We made eye contact and I blushed, trying not to show the pain I was in. Wait, he can help me maybe. I changed my expression quickly, and watched his change. I lifted my shirt, exposing the bruise that was already there from the kick. I rubbed it and looked up at him again. He looked worried.
“How much?” my dad asked, trying to sound polite.
“Sixteen-fifty,” he said, not taking his eyes off me.
I sat on the couch and brought my knees to my chest, watching T.V. I looked at him one last time as the door closed.
“Come eat, Lisa. You need it,” my dad said.
“I’m not hungry.” I walked up to my room and looked out the window, letting the cool night breeze blow onto my arms.
“Hey up there!” someone shouted from the lawn.
I looked down and saw the delivery boy.
CLICK HERE
I was fumbling around in my room, getting dressed so I could go out tonight. I got dressed my usual attire: blue jeans, black shirt, and my favorite belt and shoes. I headed downstairs, but I was cut off by my dad halfway down.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
“Out,” I said.
“With who?”
“I’m going out alone, since you won’t let me have a boyfriend. All my friends have boyfriends so I can’t go out with them,” I said.
“You look skanky,” he said.
“Dad! I do not! What’s skanky about this?” I pointed to what I was wearing.
“You are not going out! Go watch T.V. I ordered pizza for the family.”
“Why can’t I go out? This is not fair!” I shouted.
“Don’t raise your voice at me, young lady!” he shouted, slapping me.
“Don’t hit me!” I shouted.
“I’ll hit you if I feel like it.” He pulled me down the rest of the stairs.
I landed at the bottom of the stairs, hitting my head on the wall as I collided with it.
“Oh, come on, don’t be that rough with her,” my mom said. “She’s just a girl.”
“A little whore too!” my dad said, kicking me in the stomach, not really hard though.
He was about to kick me again, but the doorbell rang. Saved by the doorbell.
“Get up!” he shouted at me. “The food’s here and I don’t want anyone seeing you laying there. I might get in trouble.” He grabbed my arm and pulled me to my feet.
I grunted in pain and frustration as he opened the door.
“Good evening,” a voice that could only belong to a young guy said.
I turned and looked, seeing the most gorgeous delivery boy ever. His black hair hung into his face just a little, and he appeared to have his nose and lip pierced. His arms were covered in tattoos. We made eye contact and I blushed, trying not to show the pain I was in. Wait, he can help me maybe. I changed my expression quickly, and watched his change. I lifted my shirt, exposing the bruise that was already there from the kick. I rubbed it and looked up at him again. He looked worried.
“How much?” my dad asked, trying to sound polite.
“Sixteen-fifty,” he said, not taking his eyes off me.
I sat on the couch and brought my knees to my chest, watching T.V. I looked at him one last time as the door closed.
“Come eat, Lisa. You need it,” my dad said.
“I’m not hungry.” I walked up to my room and looked out the window, letting the cool night breeze blow onto my arms.
“Hey up there!” someone shouted from the lawn.
I looked down and saw the delivery boy.
CLICK HERE