The true story

Chapter one

"Are you ready?," the social worker with amazing ties asks.

"Two more minutes," I yell as I rush to fill bags with clothing and sentimental items. I never thought I'd actually be leaving this torturous house. I will finally be rid of my father and horrible, vile step mother.

"Have you gathered your things Miss.Hunter?," the social worker asks me again.

"Yes," I say. I get this feeling that overwhelms me. A feeling of emptiness as if I'm loosing something. What am I loosing I'm leaving my father, the one thing in life I've dreaded forever. This is the best decision I've ever made. Let's just say my father couldn't be worse he's always drunk, abused me, always works, and married this horrible, disgusting woman who's my step mother! Patricia Ann Benhart. Even when they got married she didn't take his name she kept her lasts husbands name so she "could match her kids". Ugh!!!! She really pushes my buttons!

"Coming?," she asks again.

"Here I come," I say calmly as I walk down the stairs. I'm holding back tears. Why? Why should I care? As I get to one of the flat landings in the stairs I see a blood stain on the wall the memories come flooding back....

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"Stop being so ignorant!," my step mother screams.

"I'm just trying to help clean," I say clamly as tears rush down my face. I was just cleaning her bathroom and she comes in drunk and pushes me to the ground and screams.

"Get over here you little shit!," she screams as I walk towards the stairs. I turn around and see her standing there this short woman about 5'5 and her eyes are blood shot brown and blonde hair with fiery eyes. She shoots me a glare and walks close I go to step back and almost fall. Patricia grabs my shirt and then says " Maybe next time you'll listen," then slams me down the stairs. There I lay after that for twenty minutes with a bleeding lips and swollen face.

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I snap out of this memory as I begin to feel dizzy. I grabs the wall then walk out the front door as I look back my step mom is balling. I turn around and repeat,"Maybe next time you'll listen." She goes to talk as we all walk out of the house. Me my mom and the social worker. I then hug the social worker and get into the car as I sit in the car alone I think to my self. This is a new beginning can I change my past? This will be great but how will this four hour ride be with my mom back to vegas..? This shall be interesting I don't think she will bring all this up. Yet my mom has always been the type to always talk. I'm going to begin crying this isn't going to be fun. I hate this why did I ever tell my mom about everything now I have to sit in a car with her for four hours and try to explain everything to her. What if I accidentally tell her everything that happened? The details I didn't want to reveal?.. These thoughts are rushing as my mom opens the car door.