Lying Low

I tried to get up but I wasn't quick enough. He switched on the light and by the time my eyes had adjusted his head was blocking it out again.

He was standing above me, casting a shadow of fear over me. The snarl he wore only served to make his face uglier. "Where have you been? Out drinking I suppose"

I thought about making a quick remark about how he was drunk but before I had decided a sharp kick to my ribs sent all the air out of my chest. Before I could curl into a ball he dragged me up by the collar, ripping my only good shirt. He left me standing dazed for a second before acquainting his fist with my face. I fell to the ground with a thud. I saw a glint off something, light reflecting off a vodka bottle.

Before he picked me up again I grabbed the bottle. I can't remember what happened in between, whether it was the cider or adrenaline that made me forget I don't know but next thing I remember he was lying with the top half of the vodka bottle protruding from his chest. His blood was soaking into the carpet and I had his blood all down my shirt and my own running down my face. Mum came out collapsed on him and started sobbing.

As I packed up my stuff I tried to figure out why she was crying, he had only brought us more misery. I don't remember saying bye to my mum but I like to believe I did. By the time I got to the bottom floor I had a different t-shirt on and my best shirt had mopped up my blood too. I left it the dumpster as I emerged into the cold night air again. I headed for James', I'd stay there, lay low and then disappear.

The End

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