Status: Work in progress :)
I Know About You
Chapter Nine:
Alex's POV
I walk through my house cautiously, trying to get up the stairs and to my room without being seen or heard. Just as I get to my room and go to close the door a hand stops me from completing my task. I inwardly groan to myself. Maybe I'm being melodramatic, but I hate my life. Maybe I just deserve the way my mom and dad treat me. If I wasn't gay, or if I did all the things they asked, maybe things would be different.
I'm knocked out of my thoughts with a sharp slap to the face.
"WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN ALL NIGHT, FAGGOT!"
"I HATE YOU. I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU ARE EVEN MY SON. YOU'RE THE REASON YOUR FATHER IS HARDLY HERE. HE HATES YOU JUST AS MUCH AS I DO!"
"YOU'RE A PIECE OF SHIT!"
Insult after insult came to me, and with each insult came a punch, each getting harder as she went on.
I know I said the other night that my mom has never slapped me that hard before, but hitting? That's a completely different story. Slapping and hitting are different things, right? I don't classify them as being the same.
Sometimes, my mom gets real bad, and I guess she likes to take her troubles away on me. I automatically become her punching bag at least once a week. It's not even like I could hit her back. I may loathe her, and hell, I was hardly raised as a kid, but I know right from wrong, and I know it's wrong to hit a girl.
I try to think of the beating as a blessing. You know? Things could be worse. It could be my dad hitting me. And trust me, he can beat the hell out of someone. Maybe that's why I'm not bothered by him not being around. When he is, hardly a night goes by when he doesn't lay a finger on me.
I finally stop feeling angry fists hitting my body and I open my eyes. I see my mom leaving my room, probably to find more alcohol. I hurry to close my door and lock it. I slowly sink down to the floor with my back against the door. I burry my face in my hands and will the tears away.
I have yet to cry over my situation. I just push it all to the back of my mind. I need to be strong for myself, because nobody else will be my backbone. I feel that once I cry, I show my weakness, and I don't want to come off as being a baby. I'm ready to leave this place. I have to get out. I can't take this anymore.
I walk through my house cautiously, trying to get up the stairs and to my room without being seen or heard. Just as I get to my room and go to close the door a hand stops me from completing my task. I inwardly groan to myself. Maybe I'm being melodramatic, but I hate my life. Maybe I just deserve the way my mom and dad treat me. If I wasn't gay, or if I did all the things they asked, maybe things would be different.
I'm knocked out of my thoughts with a sharp slap to the face.
"WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN ALL NIGHT, FAGGOT!"
"I HATE YOU. I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU ARE EVEN MY SON. YOU'RE THE REASON YOUR FATHER IS HARDLY HERE. HE HATES YOU JUST AS MUCH AS I DO!"
"YOU'RE A PIECE OF SHIT!"
Insult after insult came to me, and with each insult came a punch, each getting harder as she went on.
I know I said the other night that my mom has never slapped me that hard before, but hitting? That's a completely different story. Slapping and hitting are different things, right? I don't classify them as being the same.
Sometimes, my mom gets real bad, and I guess she likes to take her troubles away on me. I automatically become her punching bag at least once a week. It's not even like I could hit her back. I may loathe her, and hell, I was hardly raised as a kid, but I know right from wrong, and I know it's wrong to hit a girl.
I try to think of the beating as a blessing. You know? Things could be worse. It could be my dad hitting me. And trust me, he can beat the hell out of someone. Maybe that's why I'm not bothered by him not being around. When he is, hardly a night goes by when he doesn't lay a finger on me.
I finally stop feeling angry fists hitting my body and I open my eyes. I see my mom leaving my room, probably to find more alcohol. I hurry to close my door and lock it. I slowly sink down to the floor with my back against the door. I burry my face in my hands and will the tears away.
I have yet to cry over my situation. I just push it all to the back of my mind. I need to be strong for myself, because nobody else will be my backbone. I feel that once I cry, I show my weakness, and I don't want to come off as being a baby. I'm ready to leave this place. I have to get out. I can't take this anymore.
♠ ♠ ♠
On the continuation of this story:I'm really story that I haven't updated in over a month, but I didn't think that anyone was really reading/liking this story. But, I figured that I would continue writing it. I honestly don't even know what is going to happen in the future of this story, I just kind of make it up as I write it. So, I promise, that I am still doing this story, and you can anticipate a lot of chapters in the near future. I plan on actually doing this story and updating frequently. So, stay with me! I promise there will be new updates soon.
Sorry this chapter is so short, and just bad. I haven't been writing in awhile though, so you must forgive me.
Update again soon!
Song: Just In Time by There For Tomorrow
Hope everyone's summer is going well!:)