A slash, then another, then another. I can hear my mother scream in agony, but I know I can't help her. It's not the first time my father has done this; he can get abusive. "Lock yourself in the washroom and turn on the sink," My mother told me, "Don't make any noises or it will make him more mad." I was doing just that, sitting in the bathroom, sink on, my quiet, fearful, trembling brothers in my arms. I wish life wasn't this way. The other kids at my school go home to cooked meals, smiling parents, and toys galore. But me, I have to get home as quickly as I can in case my father is in a mood. Somedays, my parents can't afford to pay rent. When that happens, dad takes us to the street, points to the pavement, and says "pick a spot". My classmates say I smell and that I'm annoying for always asking for food. The truth is, some days I can't afford to shower, or I don't have any food to bring to school. My neighbourhood is a gang riddled. I can't wear the colours red, blue, and purple or I'll get shot. I'm lucky I got a scholarship to the private school, my all friends who go to our local high school are either pregnant, addicts, or in a gang. Some days I dream I have a good life. A life where I live in the suburbs, have a pet dog, resources and playgrounds. But another slash of the belt and I'm brought back to reality. The reality that I'll always and forever be the girl who hides in the bathroom as her father attacks her mother. A slash, then another, then another. Unless I pick up the phone and dial those 3 numbers. The 3 numbers I'm scared of, the 3 numbers I need. "911 what's your emergency?", spoke the dispatcher. Just like that, I was free. Not forever, but at that moment, it was over.
No one be concerned this isn't a true story!! My first time entering a writing contest so it may not be the best!
