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Created By

ShortiGirly

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<div style="border:1px #ccc solid; background-image:url('/images/ray.gif'); font-family:arial; width:200px; padding:5px;"><center><div style="font-size:20px;"><a href="/story/ShortiGirly/48024">Teardrops (Chapter One)</a></div><table><tr><td width="50"><div style="color:#2CC362; font-size:15px; padding-top:4px; background-image:url('/images/profratebg.gif'); background-repeat:no-repeat; width:44px; height:26px; text-align:center; font-weight:bold; vertical-align:middle; padding-top:8px; padding-left:1px; " valign="top">2</div></td><td><div style="height:100px;width:100px; padding-top:9px; background-repeat:no-repeat; background-image:url(/images/storyCover.png);"><a href="/story/ShortiGirly/48024"><div style="margin-left:9px; __padding:0px; height:90px; width:70px; background-repeat:no-repeat; background-image:url('http://www.testriffic.com/storyfiles/48024.jpg');"></div></a></div></td></tr></table></center></div>

+ 2	Teardrops (Chapter One)
+ 1	Cod As You *Four*
+ 5	Cold As You *Three*
+ 5	Cold As You *Two*
+ 5	Cold As You *One*
+ 5	Cold As You *Introduction*

 Chapter One

This story is an inspiration to a friend who went threw this. All names are changed to hide her identity.

 

People always say I have my life organized and perfect. At age fourteen I’m head cheerleader and I have a 4.0 GPA. At school teachers describe me as smart, organized and responsible, but at home it’s different.

                My father is an alcoholic and my mother is drug addicted. When, my father get’s drunk he beats me left and right. I have bruises all over my legs. So, in the dead of summer I have to wear long pants to hide the fact I’m an abused child.

If you look under my pillow you’ll find a black notebook. In that notebook revels many letters of suicide?

The reason I have such a good GPA is because I want to get into a good college and not be like my horrible parents.

One Saturday night, I was lying on my bed reading my social studies notes. When I heard the door open and slam. I had a weird feeling that my father was home from the bar he works. My heart started to beat really hard. Usually, when my father gets home from work he beats me and tells me I’m the reason everyone hates him at work.

I heard stomps coming upstairs. I yelped and scrambled to a corner of my bed. I curled up afraid. I bet you’re wondering where my mother is when this happens. She watches.  Sometimes, she helps tie my up and shove me in a closet, and sometimes she just laughs.

I gulped when the door opened and slammed against my wall. “Lora Michelle Cummings!” My father screamed. I shut my mouth. When I scream it ticks him off more. “Why did I get a call from you’re school telling me that you gat a B on you’re history exam?”

He threw my lamp to the ground. “B’s aren’t allowed in this household.” He screamed. “God damn it! Why did I have such a fucking stupid daughter?”

He came toward me when his lamp in his hand. I bit my lip and started to scream. Bad mistake.

 

Thanks for reading. I’m going to keep writing this story for a while so keep reading. I know my friend will appreciate it.

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