Broken Bones

I walked down the busy street, the stop lights were going off in the background and the wind was wailing. There were many coloured cars, all different shapes, sizes and brands. They were speeding by fast, the wind from the cars made it colder as I walked down the hill with my bruised up legs. I wore a large hoodie and shorts, I knew my parents were going to kill me literary for this but it was hot during the day.

The street that I was on turned into a hill, I quickly walked down it knowing this was the bad part of town. I heard bottles breaking, women and children screaming while the man of the house yelled. This was the part I lived in, my family was just like every family in town except both my parents did the beating, not just my dad.

I got home, opening the door and walking in. I could smell the alcohol in the air. No food was being served just alcohol. It smelt like it always did, like stinky furniture and pee.

I walked passed the kitchen quickly, rushing to my room and shutting the door behind me. Pulling my sweat pants on so my parents wouldn't know. Yeah maybe I was scared of them, but I wasn't stupid. I knew what to do, when they were home and when they weren't I knew when welfare checks came in, when they used all their welfare cash on drugs and alcohol. I knew all this because I lived with it for 10 years now.

They were only like this because they said I needed a cleansing, I was unholy I had tattoos and piercings. Men wanted me but I wanted women. I wanted everything they didn't want me to have.

They said they were saving me, but how does beatings save me?