February 11, 2010
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I am lying on my bed with everything thrown and smashed to the ground. Shards of glass, broken furniture, smashed pictures are my surrounding. Some much rage, frustration, and the worst of all emptiness running through my veins. I can hear my heavy breathing. I can feel the hot, stinging sensation of tears running down my face. I am clenching my hand is a fist shape. My body has gone numb. My mind is racing. I am still swinging; I can feel the force as my fist hits his jaw. The impact sends him spiraling and cussing to the ground.

“You’re going to regret that!” He has a sharp edge to his voice. I know he isn’t kidding.
“I don’t care. I am not the girl you use to hit around.” My voice comes out less shaky then I thought it would. It sounds strong. I like it.

“What your grow a little older and think your all of a sudden your worth it?” His voice has a harsh coldness. The words go straight pass my skin and straight to my heart. I stand up straight and relax my shoulders. I put my chin up, I am not about to show this man I call my father fear. I talk a deep breath and talk.

“No. I didn’t just get older and start thinking I am worth it. I’ve always known it. You’ve just been telling me I am not worth it. For a little I gave into your lies, but I see right through them. You’ve tormented me for too long. I am done. I am gone. I am not looking back.”

“Go a head leave! I don’t care. You’ll come back begging on your knees. Just wait and see.”

I turned and ran away. I can feel the wind in my hair. I open up my arms and spin around. It hurts at little bit, and I flinch at the pain, but it’s worth it. Rain starts pouring down. It’s as if God is telling me it’s time for a new start. I am ready for it. God knows I need it. All of a sudden all the angry I feel towards my father comes back. Tears start streaming down my face; these tears aren’t like any I felt before. They sting so much more and with them is an unbelievable mass of anger. All the years I put up with him are rushing back, with ever bit of emotion. I sit down and curl up into a ball in the middle of the road. I can feel the numbness, the loneliness, the hatred, the emptiness. Does he know how much he hurt me? Does he care? I feel so weak, I just want to die. Please someone take away the pain. Suddenly something comes and tells me that I am going to be alright and that it’s a new life. Everything I want to be is a head of me. I wipe away the tears with the back of my hand. This is the last time I’ll ever cry because of what he did. I am done. I am moving on.

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WRIT3R4LIF3 said...
Feb. 24, 2010 at 10:04 pm
I love this story. I think that you should continue it, if you haven't all ready.
You should read my work. Sorry if I sound desperate, but please.
Again, you should continue the story. Keep writing!
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