Wallowing
in a pool of blood sweat and tears, I have a slash down my right cheek from one
of my father’s rampages. ‘I need to leaving but what’s the point if he finds me
it’s the end’ I thinks, ‘I has nowhere to go my mother left when I was young
and I have no know relatives but I have to leave I can’t keep living here’. I
silently debated in my head.
I’m going
I’m
going
I’M
GOING
I sprint
over to my closet I shove a bunch of stuff a back pack, my hands are shaking
and legs are numb.
“Get in
here right now Jamison” Yelled his father in rage
When
there was no answer his dad got angry “if you don’t get in here right now I
swear I will..” he started to walk up the old creaking stairs their house had
no pictures of photos of family just gray paint on the walls which was slowly
peeling off. Each step made a noise louder than the next he was getting closer.
In a few seconds he would be here.
I
shuffle back in to the corner my back slams against the wall. I dropped the bag
over near the closet. Breath I think
breath. I can hear him breathing outside my door. I drag myself to the closet,
I grab my bag and dash for the window as the door slowly creeks open.
I turn
to see my father glaring at me, by now my heart is pounding out of my chest. My
throat is closing in and I am finding it hard to breath. My father clenches his
jaw and tightens his grip on the blunt bloody knife in his hand. Our eyes are
locked together, if I move I am dead, if I don’t move I will also be dead.
I am
standing with my back to the window, my hand slips behind me to open the window
It’s
bolted shut.
My
father steps in starting to laugh. My only option is to throw myself out the
window breaking the glass. He took another step forward we were standing only
centimeters away from each other I felt each breath he took. When he started to
raise his right hand witch was holding the knife I lunged myself backwards out
the window. The glass cracks under my weight, i fall to the ground.
It's not done and not the best so no hate !!!!
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