Three and a half months go by. Most people would say that it went by enjoyably fast, but I disagree. For me, it went by at a snail-pace. It was flashes of misery, pain, and anger. Memories of my drunken father swearing and screaming, hitting me.
Thankfully, tomorrow is the beginning of winter break and I might have a bit of time to enjoy the season with my friends.
After school, Amy, Elliot, and Camilla come home with me. If my father gives his approval, we were all going to get dinner and then see a movie.
I glance over my shoulder as they settle down in my front yard; Camilla on the porch steps and Amy and Elliot lying in the middle of the lawn.
"I'll be back in a few minutes. I just want to get permission from my dad," I explain to them before opening the front door and slipping inside.
"So can I go?" I ask, though I'm sure the answer will be no. My father never willingly let me go anywhere.
"No," he snaps angrily at me. His eyes glint with fury, as if the question offended him. "You'll stay here, boy. You have better things to do."
"But I want to go with my friends. I'll do my homework when I get home," I tell him, my tone going from normal to desperate. I didn't want to stay here with him longer than I had to.
"I said NO!" He screams at me. Knowing what's coming next, I take a step back. Unfortunately, he expects this from me now and steps forward in time with me, slapping me hard across the face.
I bite down hard on my lip and stomp off towards the front door. Over my shoulder, I firmly say one more thing before leaving. "I'm going with my friends."
Then I swing open the door and stomp onto the porch, closing the door quietly behind me and forcing myself to smile.