Crazy About You

"Alice, get down here now!" roared John, my father.

I prefer calling my parents by their first names... Makes it better. It seems like they're strangers to me, and I prefer it that way. Although I have to call them Mum and Dad in front of their faces.

My parents has problems though. They drink all through day and night, beat me up sometimes and use me as a slave. The worst thing that they had done to me was when I was just 5 years old.

My parents started drinking then, getting more and more attracted to alcohol. I had never seen them like this before; they were usually nice and kind. Then they started drinking every second of the day.

I was playing with my Barbie dolls when Angela, my mum, came barging through the door, drunk. I became scared immediately but Angela was so mad at me for some reason, she threw me out.

She dragged me through the door and left me lying on the doorstep. I slept there at night, cold and damp, but my parents never left the house. The next day, I decided to go to my neighbour's, who knew everything that happened in my house, and Julia, my neighbour, took care of me for two weeks or so.

Angela - who was probably confused as to why I didn't bang on the door or cry loudly - finally got out of the house [drunk, of course] and found me with Julia. She beat Julia up in front of me, sobbing helplessly and shouting at Angela now and then. All she did was ignore me.

Julia had to go to hospital after that, with several minor injuries. She had a few broken ribs and was bruised from head to toe. She died a few months later, not because of the injuries, but because of cancer.

I hated Angela for doing that, and I hated her ever since.

Angela and John had become more aggressive as time passed by. I was now 16, in my room, minding my own business when John comes in.

"Alice, get to the shop and buy me and your dear mum some more alcohol!" John yelled at me, his breath smelling of beer.

"I dont have any money left, Dad," I said calmly. I knew what he was going to say and I was scared if he would start to yell at me and beat me up.

"I dont care! Now go get some more beer!"

I had to go, or John would start beating me up soon. I already had a black eye, and a lot of big purple bruises all over my body. I looked like Julia when she had gotten beat up by my own my mother.

I ran down my street, getting stared at people, but I don't care. I had no one in my life to care about me.

I sprinted round the corner, went inside the shop and looked for some alcohol. I didn't have a choice, I had to shoplift. But I've done shoplifting millions of times, because of my parents, and never got caught.

I pretended to search the aisles, while looking to my left and right for people. No one was near me so I decided to steal some just then.

I quickly tucked the bottles of beer in my jacket and casually strolled to the next aisle, pretending to look for more stuff. Good thing this shop didn't have any CCTV cameras.

A few minutes later, I casually went out of the shop without getting caught and as I walked down a few more houses, I ran down my house and eventually went in when I arrived.

"Mum, Dad! I've got the drinks!" I said, before they would come up to me and ask. I shut the door and locked it.

"Give it here!" Angela shouted.

I half-ran to the living room, where John and Angela sat on the sofa, staring at the TV. There were about twenty empty beer bottles on the table, and at least five bottles on the floor, smashed. Twenty-five bottles drank in less than a day...

I gave them the beer quickly, before they could complain and they snatched it off me greedily.

"You better have some more drinks ready later on, or we'll knock you off the ground!" John yelled at me, as he opened the beer and started chugging it down.

I stared at them, digusted. How could they act like this? I hate them. I hate my parents, my life. Why did this have to happen to me? Slowly, I could feel tears slowly running down my cheeks and I quickly rubbed them dry before John or Angela saw them.

Angela caught my looking. "What you lookin' at? You want beer? Then you got beer!" Angela said, chucking an empty bottle at me and let it smash there. I didn't see it smash. I was still staring at them when she threw the bottle at me.

My life is just... ruined.

I have no education - I never went to school at all because of my parents. I've always wanted to go to school, though, just to see what it's like to have teachers educate me and to have friends who care for me.

I have no money, no friends, no clothes and no one to love or care for me. And how do I live without all those things?

Well, the answer's simple. I have no money, but I'm so good at shoplifting that I can get anything I want from a shop that doesn't have cameras. I would never steal from a shop that has camers, though. Never ever. Too much of a ricks.

And clothes... All of my clothes are ragged. Very torn and ragged. I wash my clothes in the small pond in the deserted park that I usually go to. And to dry them, I would just lay them on the grass and wait for a couple of days until they're fully dry. I would wear the same outfit for a few days or so then change.

I don't have time to take a bath at home. John and Angela are not exactly patient. I would wash myself in the pond as well as my clothes. It's dirty but it would have to do. I dry myself off with my dirty clothes which I would wash after I get dried.

I strolled back up to my bare and empty room. I sat down on my tattered bed and looked outside the window. It was a nice day outside, the sun was out and the wind was barely shaking the trees.

Maybe I should go out for a while... get some fresh air.

And so I did.

I felt the wind blowing in my face as I went outside. I didn't bother telling John or Angela, I know they would've freaked out and started punching and kicking me continuously.

I went over to my favourite place to hang out - the park, just around the corner. It had always been deserted and that's why I like it. No one's around to bother me. Just peace and quiet, and I need that every once in a while.

I went over to sit at the bench where I always sat on when I came here, and just sat there, thinking. Thinking about impossible things - people noticing how bad my life was and that someone would save me, my parents becoming normal again. But all those things were way beyond impossible and will never happen.

You're probably wondering why I've never told anyone about my parents. Julia was the only person who knew about me, who could help me. I remember her asking me - when she was taking care of me - if I wanted her to call the police. I shook my head everytime she asked.

That was because I knew what was going to happen. The police would believe Julia, of course, and if they saw my parents, they would, without a doubt, take her in.

They might be put in jail, they might not. And that was the problem. If they were given a free pardon, they would immediately come to me and Julia and blame us. My own parents would yell at me, slap me, punch me, kick me and the same would happen to Julia. I didn't like the idea of that.

I was about to get up and walk back home, since John and Angela would be wanting beer now, when a hand slammed on my shoulder and stopped me. I turned around, and saw a pale face looking back at me.