{Alycia Debnam-Careyxyou} Home Behind the Desktop

2

The bus comes to a stop and I'm the first to step out as the doors fling open. I shift my gaze across the street to my Dad's house, but his truck is missing from the driveway. He works the evening through midnight shifts, but normally he doesn't leave until 4pm. I look to the watch on my wrist as I make my way to the front door. 2:34pm. Thats strange.

I pull out my keys, unlocking the front door, before stepping inside. It was quiet. As soon as I enter, I notice the blue notepaper on the kitchen table. I approach it, my eyes briefly falling on the new scratch that lined the side of the table. Memories of last night flashback briefly, he sure made a wreck.

I pick up the note and read it.

Gone. Back on Friday.

Don't touch the pantry. I'll know if you do.

-Dad

What a tool.

But I quickly got over his threats when I realized that this meant we were free for the next few days. Relief washed over me as I let out a deep sigh. The second half of the note never returned to my mind, it didn't need to. This was a remark we've heard many times before. It was one of the many stupid, random rules that were laid upon me and my brother. These rules were always around for as long as my parents were divorced, but became ever so prominent when he began dating again. Carla. The bitch from hell. On that thought, that's probably where he's at now.

If it wasn't clear enough already, Carla cannot stand Jared and I. When put in perspective, our existence was probably a harsh reminder that my father had been a married man with a life before her, but regardless, we did nothing to her. By no means were we perfect children, but we've always tried our best to make peace within the blended "family," but they don't wish to be civil, they want us gone. What can I say? In a way, I wish I was gone too. Life's unfair.

My head turns as I hear the front door knob rattle. Jared. I quickly rush to the couches by the door and plop myself down, comically kicking my feet up on the arm rest. The door finally opens and in walks Jared, eyes widening as he notices me.

"Y/n!" he said in a hushed voice, eyes quickly scanning around us. "Get off of there before someone sees you."

A smirk reaches my lips as I sink myself further into the couch. "Oh, I don't think we'll have a problem. At least, not now," I answer with a sly tone.

He tilts his head with a look of confusion, but still flight fear in his eyes. I trade my smirk for a real smile, "look on the table."

I watch him quickly make his way to the kitchen, lifting up the note. He quickly glances up, a grin spreading to his own face now. "Sounds good to me!"

I moved to sit in the chair at the kitchen table and pulled out my laptop, opening a new google doc. Ahh, the notorious "purpose essay." The kind of assignment used as a dumping ground for our trauma in order to get some sympathy points and maybe a decent grade. I'll give the teachers credit for assigning this type of homework though, it's a smart way to get students to understand empathy for others by understanding how your own life has affected you first. But I don't know... maybe I'm the one thinking too deeply about this. There's a part of me that's always tempted to unleash my inner demons with these sort of assignments, but honestly, I think I've received a little bit too much character development for my time. And I think it's safe to say that some doors are better left closed.

My mind travels back to my last period and her beautiful green eyes. Why am I so enchanted over a teacher? Her class gave me a weird feeling of safety, a feeling that isn't around often, but whenever I do find it, I never want to leave it. I shake my head at myself.

It was one class period, Y/n... she looked at me for all of 2 seconds that entire time. But that's exactly how I wanted it, right?

I close my laptop and decide to call it a night, packing my things back in my book bag. I have the whole week to finish the assignment, so I'm not too worried. I make my way to my room and shut the door behind me, stripping my bag off of my shoulder with a groan. I felt sore. I peel off my shirt, then my pants, but not before glancing at the mirror behind my door. My eyes linger, noticing the bruising that was now formed on the side of my rib cage. I look down at my legs, still covered in the purple-ish blotches I found the night before. I let a deep sigh leave my lips. I felt tired, broken. I furrowed my eyebrows and shook my head, "stop pitying yourself."

After a few minutes, I finally turn around and put on a different shirt and some sweatpants. I climb into my mattress, pulling the covers over myself and looking up at the ceiling.

"One more day," I told myself, like I always did, "just make it one more day."

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"Get up."

I push my hands into the ground beneath me, moving a few inches up before crashing back down to the floor.

"GET UP!" His foot slams into my left side, tossing me over to my back. My right hand grasping my side. "I c-can't" I said choking on my words. He stomps his feet toward me before bending down and grabbing me by my collar. I was lifted into the air before my back forcefully hit the hall behind me. "Tell me something," he spoke through his teeth, "did I raise a 16 year old baby or are you going to man the fuck up and find your own goddamn food?!" I frantically looked back and forth between his eyes, opening my mouth but no words coming out. But he quickly lost patience, throwing back to the ground.

"Dad, I-I'm 18-"

BAM!! The dining table slammed to the floor with the sound of glass breaking, as angry footsteps left the kitchen.

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I jump awake, beads of sweat dripping down my forehead. My sweaty hands frantically searched the bed for my phone. My hands finally find it and I click the power button, checking the time.

8:37am. Oh Shit, I really fucked up this time.

I got ready the quickest I ever have. Throwing a hoodie on, I slipped on my vans and bursted my way through the door. That's when I remembered.... Jared. I quickly sprinted back to his room and pushed the door open. He was gone, oh thank heavens. At least he made it out of this one.

I grab my keys and fly out the door. I missed the bus, so I was going to have to walk... well run.

After about 20 minutes, I managed to make it to the entrance of the school. I hunched over and put my hands on my knees gasping for air. I ran nearly the entire way, Gray would be so proud. Before I could pull myself up, I heard footsteps behind me before feeling a gentle hand on my back. I jumped at the touch. "Hey, Y/n. You okay, hun?" A soft familiar voice spoke from behind me. I lifted my head only to be met with those beautiful green eyes.

"Y-you know m-my name?" I breathed out. That's when she tilted her head to the side and eyed me curiously. "Of course I do. You're in my fifth period English class," she giggled. I stood there, dumbfounded glancing between both of her eyes, with my mouth open but no words coming out. Her eyes stayed locked on mine for a moment, looking back and forth like she was analyzing me, before she broke her gaze and looked toward her wrist. "You do know it's 9:15? Shouldn't you be in class-" she asked before quickly being interrupted by the sound of the front doors.

"Ms. Hardy. In my office. Now." It was the principal, Mr. Blackworth. Well, I'm fucked.

Dad's gonna love this.

I nodded, instantly dropping my head to the ground before making my way through the door he held open for me. "Good morning, Alycia." I heard him say from behind me.

Alycia...