Hey everyone! Okay, so I'm in the midst of writing a couple FF's, but this idea has been in my head forever. There will be auditions later on, I just want to get the ball rolling and see if people will read it. =]
Prologue
"Get outta my house," she spat, her eyes full of hate and anger. I sneered at her, my heart full of angst and rebellion.
"Glady," I said as I pushed my way past her.
"Don't think you're coming back here!" She screamed to my back. I turned around, staring intently at the evil look she was giving me. There was no sound in the room, except for the sound of our heavy breathing, and the sound of the air conditioner kicking in. The musty air surrounded us, and it was full of tension and a whole lot of hate.
"Like I wanted to. This is hell, and you're the devil," I told her, reaching for the doorknob. My hand wrapped around it as I felt something smack the back of my head. I turned around, my face formed in a look of fury. I looked at the ground next to me and saw a composition book. My composition book. My skin felt heated.
"Why did you have this!!? How DARE you touch my stuff!" I yelled, holding it up.
"It's my house! Did you forget that!? You may have your friends over here, all the time, smoking pot and cigarettes, drinking beer, and doing GOD knows what drugs, but I swear to you, never again. Never again. Take your crap and leave, Niki. You're not welcomed here. Good luck finding a place to stay, or even a job to land. You are worthless and nothing. Leave." She demanded, pointing towards the door. I turned on my heel, yanking the door open with everything I had, slamming it shut. My heart pounded in my chest. I wasn't sad; not at all. I was 18 years old. That meant 18 years of my heart slowly hardening over time to the problems and hardships I faced at home and at school. I knew I wasn't welcomed anywhere, and home was no exception.
I reached into my pocket, grabbing a cigarette. I lit it and exhaled as I made my way past the trailors. I kicked my neighbors metal trash bin that was overflowing with trash. I made it to the end of the gravel driveway, on to the highway I knew so well. I walked the freeway until mid day became dusk. Finally, I had had enough. I sat down on the guard rail, taking out my cell phone. There were only 8 numbers in my phone; a phone which I had had for years. I dialed a number I knew by heart.
"Ash, I need a place to crash. She kicked me out. This time, for good."
