By Reagen S.

I have been beaten, punched, kicked, pushed, burned, and much more I can’t even think or talk about anymore. My life has been like this ever since I was seven, when my mom and dad got in a divorce because my dad didn’t help with the family. All he did was come home drunk. After the divorce my dad got to have me every two weeks. Then the fight happened.....my dad got me, and my mom got nothing. My dad mostly took me because he was so unhappy with his life that he needed someone or something to take his anger out on. I was that person. I’m thirteen now, and this has been going on for six years. I have seen too much, and I have been beaten too much to take it anymore. My life can’t go on like this anymore.

Chapter 1

The sun shown through the dark blue curtains and filled the room. My eyes fluttered open and I rubbed my eyes, still tired. Everyday my eyes were blood shot, considering, when my dad goes to bed, I go to bed. That’s very late too, he always stays up and watches criminal shows till one in the morning. I yawned as I walked down to the bathroom, and was suddenly blinded after flicking on the light. My dad, George, walked by the bathroom and glared at me. I just squirted my toothpaste onto my toothbrush and brushed my teeth squeaky clean. After, I put my hair in a messy bun, and dressed in my royal blue basketball shorts and my white Goalies, my old soccer team, and my tall black socks and headed down stairs for breakfast.

My legs ached as I took baby steps to go downstairs. Scratches filled my arms and bruises all over my body. Making it down the steps, my dad had a beer in one hand and the TV remote in the other. I rolled my eyes in disappointment and disagreement, and then got the Crunchers out of the pantry. The square pieces sprinkled into the bowl following a shower by the milk, and scooped it into my mouth.

The TV blared into the kitchen as my finished my cereal. Gun shots, cuss words, and who know what echoed through the family room, to the kitchen, and into my ear. Sipping the milk out of the bowl to finish it off my breakfast, I dumped it into the sink. Then opened the fridge to find the Sunny D. Beer bottles were lined up, as I scooted them over to find the orange juice. Pouring it into my painted mug, I put it back into the fridge, took my glass, and headed upstairs. Sitting down on my bed, I took a deep breath and took another drink of my Sunny D. Walking towards my desk, my dad screamed and I heard a glass crash; beer bottle.

Ignoring it, I walked over to my desk and took out my journal. Not deciding to write, I decided to draw my happy life. I drew a picture of my mansion house in Denver, Colorado, where my mom lives. Then in front of the house playing in the snow was my mom, me, and my best friend, Avery. My mom took Avery under her wing when we were just five, then two years later, we were separated. Best friends, since the day we were born, and now for six years I haven’t heard or seen Avery. Then I drew my dogs, well I guess my old dogs, Biscuit and Ginger. Then pine trees outlining the house with snow on them. That’s how my life would be, if it wasn’t for my dad. I would be living a happy life, with my mom and Avery. But I guess that’s only my fairytale.

Taring it out of my journal, I put it on my bulletin board with all of my other pictures and drawings I’ve done. Biscuit, Ginger, Avery, my mom, vacations, and the two other people I miss the most, Hailey and Ali. Hailey and I met before kindergarten for soccer and have been the bestest friends ever since. Ali and I met in second grade over soccer and the reunited in third grade for school. All four of us (including Avery) have been the bestest friends for ever, and will remain for ever, even though we may never see each other again. A tear cascaded down my cheek as I looked at all the pictures. I couldn’t stand being away from them, some way I needed to get out of here.

As you can probably tell, my life isn’t the best. A better word would be boring. Back in Denver, I was qualified in select and major volleyball and soccer teams and extra sports on the side for fun. In Denver, I had a trampoline, and hot tub in my back yard. Yes, I hate to admit, but my family is filthy rich. But I’m not the filthy rich type, I’m such a tomboy but can dress super nice. The reason why we are so rich is because my older sister, Alyssa, and my mom are both major surgeons. My life was perfect, until, the beating and screaming happened. I would call it a life or death situation. My mom’s and my screams are scarred and heard in my mind for ever. Sadly the pictures are locked in my head too.

My mom’s scream echoed through the house as I was finishing my homework. My mom was getting beaten because my dad got fired from his job. But sadly my mom couldn’t do anything about it. My dad was high and was stronger than my mom would ever be. She has no chance.

“STOP!!” I screamed. My dad stared at me and then dropped my mom to the ground and walked slowly over to me.

“You want me to kill you instead of your scrawny mom?” he asked staring at me in the eyes.

“Don’t kill me, but abuse me instead. Save my mom. Take me.”

“No sweetie, I won’t let you do that.” my mom said running to me.

My dad held her off and then took my by the wrist and dragged me to the car. I only came back 2 days later and got the rest of my things and said that last goodbyes to my mom.

Avery wasn’t there when this happened so I never got to say a real goodbye, stupid grandma and grandpa. Now, for over 6 years and possibly more I will never see my mom, Avery, Biscuit, and Ginger, for ever.

The images and sounds are still heard in my mind today and it hurts to think about it. All I know and wish for is someday I will be home, someday.