I ran, I just ran out of the grocer's once I'd hit him. I went home. By the time I got there of course, he'd called my parents. Of course he had. He knew my parent's number. Of course he did.

This is a terrible world we live in, where everyone's just manipulative and cruel and evil. It's a whole month since the funeral and everything seems back to normal. My dad hit me again. This time he caught me right in the other eye so it looks like I'll have two shiners. They say you're supposed to put raw steak on it. If we had any steak in the house, I'd try it. Instead I just filled the bathroom sink with cold water and held my head under there. I tried to drown myself but it didn't really work. Panic always sets in. You need to do it in a river with a stone tied to your feet for it to work properly.

My head was still spinning, so I started thinking about weird things. I thought about how the mafia get rid of snitches by hardening cement around their feet and the dropping them into a river, and what I really needed to do was betray the mafia somehow and then I would be dead. 

Then I realised I was still in the bathroom, so I curled up on the mat, cradling my head in a cold wet towel. I would have fallen asleep there but my parents eventually threatened to kick the door open so I came out. 

They had some news for me, they said. They'd had control over my account where the money comes in, I knew, but now they told me I owned several credit cards, and I was behind a few months on some payments. I didn't undertand at first. Then I got what they meant - they'd signed all my personal details and my signature on the credit card agreement and usd them to make purchases in my name.

I quickly figured out what this meant. There was no way I could pay back the debt, not even on my savings. If my credit score was ruined, I wouldn't be able to get a car, or a morgage on a house if I ran away. They... they must have known I was desperate. I had to get out of here, I couldn't let my parents control my financially any more.

I screamed at them that this was identity theft and that I'd get on the phone and sort this out right now. They just smiled at me and said the credit card company wouldn't interfere with a mere domestic problem. 

I stormed out of the house a few moments ago. I need to get to Andrew's house - I know roughly where he lives. I don't have the money for a taxi but maybe the grocer would drive me.

The End

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