The Individualism of Abbie Trichinas
The Individualism of Abbie Trichinas (Prologue)
It was three in the morning I had just returned home from a long night of partying, I was intoxicated and tripped over my father’s silver bowling ball at the foot of the stairs.
Alarmed of the noise my father got up out of bed, furious grabbed his metal baseball bat that he won in a competition (well more like collect twenty tabs off the beer cans and you get sent a ‘limited edition’ baseball bat).
“Who’s there” my dad said furiously
“It’s just me dad” I said slurring my words.
“Get your ass in bed you ungrateful twat” he said while grabbing my hair and pushing me in the direction of my bedroom, which may I add who’s smart idea was it to put my bedroom at the end of the hallway, oh yeah my own
Stumbling towards my bed whilst knocking over toe water bottles, standing on my hair brush, stubbing my two on my bed side table and hitting my head on the post on my four post bed, I finally climb into the bed and almost in an instant fall into a much needed sleep.
Alarmed of the noise my father got up out of bed, furious grabbed his metal baseball bat that he won in a competition (well more like collect twenty tabs off the beer cans and you get sent a ‘limited edition’ baseball bat).
“Who’s there” my dad said furiously
“It’s just me dad” I said slurring my words.
“Get your ass in bed you ungrateful twat” he said while grabbing my hair and pushing me in the direction of my bedroom, which may I add who’s smart idea was it to put my bedroom at the end of the hallway, oh yeah my own
Stumbling towards my bed whilst knocking over toe water bottles, standing on my hair brush, stubbing my two on my bed side table and hitting my head on the post on my four post bed, I finally climb into the bed and almost in an instant fall into a much needed sleep.