Juiced

The next morning I tossed a little in my sleep. I felt the covers ripped away from me

“Get up.” My dad said sternly.

“What the fuck?!” I yelled.

He grabbed me and threw me onto the floor. I looked up at him with a shocked face. Did he just do that?

“Don’t use that language with me! Now we’ve discussed it and we don’t want you here anymore.” He said.

“You don’t want me here? Your fucking kicking me out?!” I yelled.

“Yeah! So pack your shit! AND LEAVE!” He yelled.

He stormed out of the room and slammed the door. I was still taking all of this in. I was getting kicked out of my own home. Where will I go now?

I began furiously stuffing things into a bag. I stuff all my clothing into another bag. I carried them out of my room and went downstairs where I set them at the door. I went into the living room and saw my parents mesmerized by the TV. I grabbed onto the top of it and pushed it off the stand. It came crashing down onto the ground. My parents looked at me with that ‘I’m going to kill you’ look.

“YOU REALLY ARE BRAIN DEAD!” My dad screamed.

“YOU GUYS ARE! YOU’RE KICKING YOUR FUCKING CHILD OUT!” I screamed.

“It’s for the best. We can’t keep up with who you’ve become. So leave.” My mom said.

What I’ve become? Is she really saying this?

“What are you waiting for?! Go live with your druggie friends! You’re not the daughter we raised.” She said.

“M-mom.” I choked.

“GO!” she yelled.

I shook my head as a few tears came out.

“YOU FUCKING HEARD HER! LEAVE!” My dad screamed.

“Fuck you.” I said coldly.

“OK! THAT’S IT!” He yelled.

He grabbed onto me. I screamed and punched him. I ran for the door but I felt my hair being pulled. He slammed me into the door. He pushed me out of it. I went tumbling down the steps. My bags landed beside me.

“YOU’RE FUCKING USELESS!” He screamed.

“RIGHT BACK AT YOU! YOU DONT DESERVE TO BE CALLED A GOOD FATHER YOU ABUSIVE PRICK!” I screamed.

He came charging down the steps and kicked me furiously. One swift kick to the head made me almost slip out of consciousness. I groaned and closed my eyes.

“Hey! What are doing!?” Came a voice.

My horrible father looked up then went back into the house casually. I groaned in pain and tired to see anything but my eyes just would open for me. I was almost out of it. I faintly heard feet rushing over to me.

“Is she dead!?” One said frantically.

“I don’t think so.” Another said.

One came closer to me. The person kneeled down and picked me up.

“Your okay Amber. Your okay.” He whispered softly.

That voice.

It sounded a lot like...