I glanced at my watch and sighed, it was only 3:15. I don't know why I came so early, I wasn't even sure if Trent was going to come or not. I hoped that he would.

I just stared at the ground from where I was sitting. I couldn't sit still any longer. I was getting nervous with each passing second. So I decided to get up. Once on my feet I started digging my toe into the soft earth. It had rained earlier that day, glancing up at the sky I noticed that it was dark and gray; rain still threatened to fall. The soft breeze tickled my exposed skin. I was a little cold, but I didn't want to go inside and wait.

Shoving my hands into my pockets I turned my attention back to the hole I was digging with my foot. It was slowly getting deeper as I dug my shoes deeper into the ground. As I shrugged off the cold I started to pace back and forth. I was incredibly nervous. Hopefully Trent would be here soon . . .

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After school I went home to drop my bag and shit off. I also wanted to grab my skateboard.

As I walked through the door I heard my parents screaming at one another. I slipped silently into my room. Throwing my bag in the corner I grabbed a few bucks for food and went into the bathroom.

In the bathroom I silently shut and locked the door. I immediately stripped out of my hoodie and tee shirt. Standing in front of the full length mirror I examined myself. I was pale and incredibly scrawny looking; I looked so vulnerable. Anyways, my eyes slid from my messy black hair to my eyes, which looked blank and empty staring back at me. I then looked at my shoulders, my chest, my stomach. I immediately noticed a bruise the size of a fist, which was slowly turning and even darker purple blue color. I touched it lightly then whinced at the pain. Then my eyes moved to my arms, pausing, I examined them more closely. I knew what I would see. There were silvery scars scattered about my arms, each one representing a mistake in which I had made. I slowly ran the fingers of my right hand over the scars on my left arm. "They are so beautiful", I thought staring at them ," but they represent too much pain. . .

I decided that I had to go. I picked my shirt and hoodie off the bathroom floor and slipped them back on. I grabbed my skateboard on my way out of my room as well.

As I slipped by the living room, where my parents were still arguing, I heard my dad strike my mom and then I heard her drop to the floor. I didn't hesitate to drop my board and go to my mom's aid. She saw me enter the room and yelled to me to leave with a terrified look on her face. She knew what was coming, and so did I. Disobediantly, I walked over to her and helped her to her feet.

I started to lead her through the archway toward the front door. But before I told her to go to the neighbors house where she'd be safe, my dad grabbed the back of my head, pulling me to the floor. I pushed my mom through the archway, but she refused to leave me there as I hard with her. My dad was pushing his foot hard into my chest when he noticed my mom coming toward him. He struck her hard across the face, knocking her into a nearby corner. I saw her grab her face, tears falling uncontrollably. Dad then picked me up by my hoodie. Holding me there he socked me in the face twice. The first time I could feel my lip burst open, and the second time he must have hit me on the forehead because my vision was soon clouded with blood. He came at me a third time, but I brought up my knee before he touched me again. I watched as he fell to the floor grabbing himself in pain.

I immediately grabbed my mom's arm, pulling her out of the house. Before walking through the front door I grabbed my mom's car keys on my way out.

Quickly making it to the car I helped my mom into the passenger seat. I then hurried to the drivers side and got in. Before I even got my door closed I saw my dad come stumbling out the front door with his fist raised. I was sure that he intended to use it on me again. Sticking the key in the ignition I turned and the car sprung to life, drowning out my dad's screams. I quickly backed out of the driveway before he reached the car. I glanced in my rear view mirror when I was down the road a little way. I saw my dad standing in the middle of the road with his fist still raised, before rushing my mom to the hospital.

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