• "Hey wake up!"
    "Huh?!"
    "I said wake up ya lazy bum."
    "God dang it," he says as he crawls out of the bed that's older than he is, "why are ya waking me up this early in the morn?"
    "You gotta take me to therapy," I say as I back out of his room some, just in case he decides to get violent, "don't you remember anythin..."
    Suddenly I feel a small round object smash in to my gut, it knocks the air out of me for a couple of seconds. As I clench my ribs, trying regain air, he starts yelling.
    "Don't take that tone with me boy, I'll beat you so bad your grand children will feel it!"
    I giggle at this, which only makes him madder, before he grabs an object to hurl at me, I leave his room and slam the door. Shortly after I hear him shout, "Well looks like your not going to therapy today ya whiney brat!"
    To hear that doesn't bother me, truthfully I get him mad so he doesn't take me. The thing with my therapy is that it was court appointed after I beat my step brother with a padlock. They think my emotions from my mothers death caused my violence, if only they'd believe that the brute, my stepdad, is reason for it, not my mom.
    Anyways, I walk down the hallway to get my bag and a clean set of clothes, I stuff the clothes into my bag. I grab my phone and keys and set up my fare well gift to this life, as I open my bedroom door, SURPRISE!
    Seems the lazy man made it out of his room for something other than the toilet, before I can say anything, he starts ranting, "You're going out like that, you look like a bum. You take up after your mother for sure, that dirty slut."
    Usually you'd expect me, the main character to punch this old man in the kisser. Unfortunately I never could, and probably will never be able to. I may hate this man that smells of vodka, vomit, smoke, and dirty women with a passion, but I still have respect for him. He's been around for all 18 years of my life, so I'd say he earned some respect for staying that long.
    I walk past him, keeping my eyes away from his bloodshot ones. I walk out the front door and make sure I'm ready for this venture. I walk to my garage and pull out my jet black Diamond Back 20" bike, my only prized possession.
    I pedal down the driveway,stopping at the end. I look back at the trailer that held this ruined family together for more than 18 years, then I look away, wide grin on my face. As I look back again, I see smoke coming from my window near the front door, the nasty smell of burning gasoline fills the air and burns my nose to the point of sneezing.
    "Bless you," I say to myself, and then I pedal on down the road.
    A couple of yards down I hear the sound of a small explosion, the sound of a new life blowing my way...
    End c.1