"Get up!" I heard my father shout through the door. "Get up, you lazy scum, get up!"

I jolted awake, "yes, sir, I'm coming,"

"Hurry up!" I heard him stomp away. I sighed. I got up and changed into my clothes. I looked through my meager clothes and finally found the blue jeans I wore yesterday. I also found a plain red t-shirt and quickly pulled it on. I was just putting on my scruffy black tennis shoes when I heard my father at the door again, "what's taking so long?" he shouted.

"I'm putting on my shoes, Richard. I'll be out in a minute!" I shouted back. I wasn't allowed to call him dad, not that I wanted to, but I either called him Richard or "sir."

"Hurry up! Thomas and I are hungry!" he stomped off again. I rolled my eyes. He's so impatient, I thought to myself.

I finished putting on my shoes and went to my dresser to brush through my short black hair. This brush was precious to me. It was my mothers' brush. She died ten years ago from breast cancer. She was my favorite person in the whole world. And apparently she was my fathers', too, because he wasn't always so harsh. He was nice, gentle, and one of the best men in the whole town.

But all the changed when she died. He's rude and mean. But mostly to me. I used to be confused, but as I got older I understood more.

I looked just like her. Same pixie-like features; the same tiny body; the same big, bright blue eyes; and similar names – Alice and Allison. I sighed again.

"ALICE!" oops. I forgot.

"Coming!" I shouted while running out my door. "Sorry, sir, my shoe…" he cut me off.

"I don't want to hear any excuses. Go make some breakfast."

"Yes, sir" I learned long ago that arguing did nothing. I walked to the pantry and got out the pancake mix.

As I turned I saw Thomas in the doorway, with a smug smile on his face. I glared at him.

"Father, Alice glared at me." His said in his disgusting nasally voice.

The next thing I knew, I was on the floor, my cheek was stinging, and Richard was standing over me.

"I said. Go. Make. Breakfast." He said in a deadly voice.

"Yes. Sir," I replied with the same amount of venom in my voice. I could taste the blood in my mouth. I got up, and grabbed the pancake mix off the floor, and walked to the stove.

Fifteen minute later the food was done. I grabbed a pancake, and ate it as I walked upstairs.

I went into the bathroom to wash my face, and brush my teeth. Then I went into my room and grabbed my school stuff.

I went downstairs to find it empty. Thomas and Richard were getting ready to leave. I decided to do the dishes now, so they would be done and over with.

Once I was done I heard the door open and close and I knew they left. Finally. I waited a few minutes so I wouldn't meet my brother in the school parking lot, or whatever.

After ten minutes I decided it was safe. So I ran upstairs, grabbed my keys, backpack, and put on my jacket.

I walked outside to the never-ending rain of Forks, Washington. I quickly locked the deadbolt and jogged to my small, blue, four-seater, Chevrolet car. It was kinda old; I think it was an mid-eighties model. Oh well. At least it worked. I've never had any problems with it.

A few minutes later I pulled into the forks high school parking lot. I'm sixteen, and I'm a sophomore.

I found a spot and got out of my car. It was January and freezing! I shivered inside my jacket.

I looked up at the school. Since we just got back from winter break you could hear a lot of kids complaining. But I wasn't.

School was my one and only refuge from my crappy home, my stupid brother, and my abusive father.

I sighed in contentment as I walked to my first hour class.