Breathe Me

A

ave put him in his place, but no, my traitorous cunt had to bring the floods because my pink canoe hasn't floated up enough cum creeks! I don't need this distraction. I especially don't need a bad boy distraction. Bad boys make you forget what your goals are, and my goal is to le

the door, and head to my locker to get my books for my next class. I look back and don't see him. Hope

A very hard wall of muscle, and I know who it is without looking up. God, he smells good. Shit! I just sniffed him, didn't I? Maybe he didn't notice. He lets out a low chuckle and sa

hard chest-shit!- You're in my way! So watch where you're going next time." I try to sound firm, but it's not working out too well. He

over that, and thankfully I had a spare shirt in my locker since this isn't the first time this has happened. It's always better to be prepared so I don't have to wear a wet shirt all day because I definitely won't go home to change and have

d no to her. Oh, this is making my day a little better. Bitch got turned down. I can't help but smirk at her when sh

an't have any more hours added to my detention.”He gives me that intense stare that makes me nervous so I look away

hing home so I can make it there to check in on Mom and have dinner ready before Dad gets home. If he comes home drunk an

n when you come in the front door. You can also see the hole in the wall from where Dad threw me into the wall because his plate of food had to be reheated when he got home late one night a couple of weeks ago. I didn't know he was going to be staying at the bar an hour longer than he normally does so I started

d I will walk in here one day and she will be dead. I walk over to the bed and put my hand in front of her mouth to check her breathing. I breathe a sigh of relief when I feel her breath hitting my hand. "Mom, are you okay?"“Laken, is that you?" she says in a sleepy voice. “Yeah, it's me, I just got home from school. I'm about to start on dinner and then you need to eat something." "You're such a go

piraled and started drinking. Which then made Mom spiral into a deep depression and riddled with anxiety. The first time he hit me came from a drunken night when he came home and I had fallen asleep doing my homework, so I didn't get dinner done. His yelling woke me up, and when I tried to argue with him he slapped my face so hard that it left a bruise of his palm print for days. He apologized the next morning and felt awful about it, and I readily forgave him since I knew he was under a lot of pressure, and I knew that

to grab a beer from the fridge. "I'm going to wake Mom and get her to the table," I mutter. "That bitch has probably been asleep all day. She's useless," he sneers. That would be a correct assessment. I go wake Mom an

days. Now clean that shit up!”I get up to clean his mess, but I guess I wasn't turned far enough for him to miss my bitchy eye roll, because before I can take another step he's in my face and hits me so hard that my head turns and my teeth cut into my lip. That's definitely going to be swollen in the morning. "You disrespectful little cunt! I work my ass off for you to be able to live in this house and I could e

y her mother, who wore them at her own wedding. Just picking up the blade has my blood pumping faster. I quickly take off my shoes and pull off my jeans so that I'm left in just my black boy short panties and t-shirt. I sit on the edge of my bed and put the blade against my upper thigh, just right underneath the bottom of my panties. I choose a spot that doesn't already have a white scar and drag it along my skin to see the blood start welling up. I keep cutting my skin over and over until I have tears running down my cheeks just as fast as t