How I met your father

"Kids, sit down. Darcy, Sydney, I'm going to tell you the story of how I met your dad. I know Harry has told you before, but I'm here to tell you the full one, the real one. It's a weird story and a long one too. But its OUR story which makes it the best one in the world. It all started when I woke up on that sunday morning. I only got a couple hours of rest, and its not because I was out partying it up the previous night. No, it was because I couldn't fall asleep..."


Shock. Thats the only feeling I can process in my screwed up head right now. I don't understand, why me? Why can't I go down stairs and eat breakfast with my loving family right now? I thought I had it all right, I mean in my mind it should be all perfect. I hid all the glasses of wine last night so my mother wouldn't see. She would have been pissed. Psssh I know I was.

I don't know what else to do. I've told him to quit hundreds of times and he actually promised me. HE LOOKED ME IN THE EYES AND TOLD ME HE'D STOP FOR ME. Because he "loves" me, sure dad, I haven't believed that since he left me at a bar when I was two. Or the time I came home crying from school when I was 8, because a girl called me ugly. He smiled and as sweetly as he could said, "Some people are unlucky." Or the time he tried to sell me to a pedifile when I was ten, wanting "the world's best" whiskey in return. A new emotion came to me as I heard his screaming from down stairs, anger.


"Ellie Blue are you here?" My new teacher asks a little too pleasantly. She probably knows who I am, I thought, Everyone does. "Here ma'am," I say in my perfect voice. Today is the first day of senior year, which will totally be the best year so far. I planned out my outfit four days ago, and love that that's my only worry in the world. It consists of my new gucci bag, tori burch flip-flops and some cute printed shorts. Since I live in beautiful california, the color goes nicely with my tan, and my blonde straight hair, with no split ends I might add. Since my mom lives by herself, she can spend her millions of dollars only on me. You know I don't complain. Ohhh mom.... :)

Mom. "Dammit," I curse under my breath as I snap back to reality. I used to cope with my dad because my awesome mom was always there for me. She always handled me and my dad, picking me up from bars and scolding him, calling me beautiful and scolding him, and stopping me from getting sold to a pedifile and scolding him. But then she left and my life as I knew it fell apart.

I turn over trying to get more comfortable, praying that I can go back to my life as the girl who has it all.

Notes

too lazy to do more sorry