I stare down; looking at the same pair of shoes I've been having for many years now—probably four. That's right. Four years with the same pair of shoes and I haven't had new ones ever since. After all, four years ago, I did have a big day; however, I don't consider it a big or good day now.
The sound of the door slamming hard startles me and I can't even lift a finger, because I'm afraid he'll do something, something I don't even want to have as a memory when I look back at these years. I don't even know if I'll be able to look back as if I'll have a further life.
"God dammit!" he yells. His name is Gloss. He is my husband and has been for four years. I don't remember the last time when he said he loved me, when he said he'd keep taking care of me until death separates us, when he even showed me how much he cares for me. I don't even know if he does.
"Annie, why haven't you picked up the trash outside?!" he raises his voice even more.
I can't talk back to him, or else. But is responding to his question the same thing as talking back?
He treats me like a toy, like a slave, like I'm a piece of shit. But really, I'm his wife. I'm the mother of his son. He's the father of my son.
I'm Annie Cresta. I'm twenty-five years old. I was raised by two pairs of people; my parents and my uncle and aunt. My mother never did anything around the house, besides smoking cigarettes, cutting herself, and drinking until she passed out. My father was hardly ever home. The only things he would do were go out with his friends and return by morning, and sometimes, not return at all. His last words to me were, "Go to hell, you little piece of shit."
I remember that day like it was yesterday. I was seven-years old and I was living with them in Richmond, Virginia. I was playing with my headless doll in my parents' room—the only room of the house, so I'd sleep on the floor without any sort of blanket sometimes. I was lucky to even get the baby blanket we were given when I was born… I still have it.
I heard glass shattering on the floor, on the walls, even on the ceiling! It wouldn't stop. I dropped the doll and when I slowly sauntered towards the noise, it was my mother, throwing every dish around. She looked furious, infuriated, outraged; she looked like a demon. She screamed and screamed until her voice was giving up, until she was giving up. I wanted to cry but couldn't—she'd hurt me or something.
"I'm tired of all of this!" she yelled. "I'm tired!"
That's when she looked at me with her vicious dark eyes. The only thing I liked about her was her beautiful flowing brown hair. People say that I have the same hair as my mother did but I don't like agreeing with them.
"You little rat," she got closer to me and her hand clenched. The only thing I felt was her hand gripping my throat, pushing me against the wall hard. My whole back ached for the next few days after that. It felt like my back bones shattered and couldn't be replaced.
"I regret having you," she said, "I wish you were never born. You're as useless as a little piece of shit."
I didn't know what her problem was until my father walked in. He somewhat reminds me of Gloss, but that isn't a good thing. He even kind of looked like Gloss.
"What the hell is going on here?" his voice was intimidating.
"I'm just tired of all of this!" my mother finally released me and dug her fingernails into her skull. "I'm tired of this bullshit! I'm tired of this shit, so-called, world!"
"Look," my father approached my mother but I wanted to cry, and did, when I saw him stamping his fist onto her stomach. She groaned and couldn't breathe. "You're the one who's tired? You're the one who's tired? You're the one that sits on your ass all day and does nothing! You're just like that shit over there!"
He pointed at me.
"Listen to me," he grabbed her by the jaw and pulled her face to face him, "You're tired of this world? Good. I've been waiting for you to say that for a long time."
He whispered it but I still heard him. He didn't say anything after that but I closed my eyes and covered my face so I wouldn't have to look at him snapping my mother's neck. I heard her neck snap though—it was like breaking a branch in half, but the noise was louder.
I was creating an ocean full of tears and didn't know what to do when my father looked at me, after he released my mother's body. Should I run? I thought. Should I stop crying? He slowly walked towards me, his hands shaking—his feet as well. Maybe it was because of the drugs he did outside with his "friends". I tried to stop the tears from releasing but couldn't help it. I just couldn't.
My small body tightened when I felt his hard hands grip me by my armpits and I could see a tear in his eye. That's when I began bawling, letting the whole neighborhood know that I was in complete danger. I knew that, because when a lady walked in, she immediately looked for the phone and dialed in someone, saying, "Yes? Please come to Eight-Hundred, Maple Avenue, and please make it quick! Please!"
The police arrived immediately after the phone call. It probably took them a minute and a half—we did live near a police station.
"Freeze!" a policeman pointed a gun at my father. I didn't know if I should be thankful or frightened. He was pointing a gun right at my father!
"Release the child!" he continued.
My father listened and dropped me, letting me land right on my bottom, hitting my head on the wall. Pain struck my whole body and I cried even more. Two more policemen barged into the scene and took my father, handcuffing both of his hands together. Before they left, the policemen were still holding him when he approached me one last time, and said, "Go to hell, you little piece of shit."
I didn't even know what hell was, until I started living with my aunt and uncle afterwards. The lady who had saved me, her name was Mags. I don't know if she's still alive today—she probably was around her late-sixties or early-seventies back then. I haven't seen her ever since.
My aunt and uncle were not like my parents; they didn't abuse me or anything but they did yell at me a lot. I learned from them though. They told me the basics: don't do drugs, don't smoke, don't drink, wait until you're married to have sex, etc. I followed all of those except for one; the last one.
Whenever I was in College, back when I was twenty, I met Gloss. He's twenty-six now, so he was twenty-one when we met. I thought he was the sweetest, cutest, most down-to-earth guy I had ever met. But like some girls, I was stupid for thinking that. One night, he took me to the lake, somewhere here in California. We were inside his truck talking about random things. He told me a little about his family—it wasn't anything like mine. I didn't tell him about my parents though; I told him that they both died before I turned two. I told him about my aunt and uncle, and felt like I was talking too much. He didn't seem to be bothered after though, and he didn't talk after that either; instead, he kissed me. It was the first time and it felt perfect. I was naïve and still am. He kept kissing me and kissing me until all of the sudden, we were both naked and I wanted to cry for what we had just done.
Nine months later, I gave birth to Creek. Gloss decided to name him that and I had no obligation to reject. He said it was not up to me to name him. He said that I, giving him the news that I was pregnant, was enough. He wanted me to get an abortion but that's the one of the other reasons why he got to name him. He felt like I was making all of the decisions. I kind of was.
Creek is four-years-old today. He looks more like Gloss than he does me. He has the same blue eyes, the same blond hair, and the same skin. I'm a little glad that he doesn't look like me; he'd be ugly if he did but wouldn't be as ugly as me.
"Look at me when I'm talking to you," Gloss gets near me and that's when I remember my parents. I feel a chill going down my spine when he grabs my chin and lifts my face up so I'll look at him.
"I told you pick up the trash outside before I got home," he says, "You can't even do one simple task. I don't even know why I married you; you're worthless."
I understand that.
"Are you going to answer me?" he adds with a furious tone.
I look down at the Adam's apple on his throat and notice that it pops out more. His arms look much more muscular as well.
"I…" I finally decide to speak but feel regret stabbing me all over. "I…"
"Quit doing that and answer me!" he shakes me.
"I… I'm sorry," I say, "I… I promise I'll go pick it up right now."
He takes a quick look at me before he harshly presses his mouth hard against mine that I can't even feel his lips somehow.
"Creek!" he shouts after he finishes kissing me and walks towards Creek's room.
I can't get into whatever he does with Creek. I do sometimes but he only hits me, and it makes Creek cry even more. I can't stand the sight of Creek crying—it makes me want to cry, because it reminds me of how I was when I was a kid. It feels like he's living it.
I look down at my shoes again and think: I'm worthless. I'm not worth having Gloss. I mean, he does work his butt off every day, while I pretty much do what my mother did. I do nothing here at home—I don't really consider this place home. I might as well not call it home at all. Maybe it's time for a new home, a new life, something better than this. However, I just don't know if there's anything that'll last long forever; that happiness will last forever. I think I should try though… I should try to, at least, start a new life. I should try to start a new beginning, a new beginning without Gloss…
I have to do it soon.
NOTES: Good Lord! What am I thinking? What is Little Mikey thinking nowadays? Hmm... I'm crazy, I know. XD But seriously you guys, I never, ever, ever, ever had this story in thought until last night. It literally hit me last night and I felt like I couldn't just let it go. I had to begin writing it down. I have to admit though, that I wasn't going to use Annie as the protagonist but I recently found out that a lot of people like her, and, of course, Finnick;) I didn't know who I was going to use at the main character at the beginning until I thought of Annie. It's actually really fun writing as her and I can't wait to get started on the next chapter. But anyway, uh... (I feel like this Author's note is going to be long! XD) this is my first, regular fanfic. My first was Convergent, which is a crossover (if you have a chance, please check that out), and I still haven't finished that but I'm heading towards the ending already. Oh, and speaking of that! I was actually writing the next chapter for Convergent when this story idea popped into my mind. I was like... "Whoa! Brain, mind, chill please! I can't work on two stories at the same time!" but I'm sure I'll manage. To my Convergent fans, if any of you are here, hopefully, the story will still be published often. I haven't updated it in a while and I'm truly sorry. I've been having Writer's block with that story for some reason. And in case any of you are wondering, (my Convergent fans) there will still be a sequel to that story! This story will be one single one with no sequels. Yeah... I feel like this'll be like one of those stories that making a sequel for it, will ruin it. So yeah... Like I said, I never thought that I would be writing another story at this time. I don't even think now's the good time to be doing that, but what the heck? I'll do it just for you guys:) I hope, if anyone read this, you guys like this so far. This is a fresh start - it's a fresh start for another story that doesn't have to do with the actual Hunger Games or any Divergent action-based sequences. This story's probably not as good as the other ones out there but it's worth a try. I'm not the best writer as well, but I do try as well. So, again, hope you guys liked this and please, if you read, please leave a review and tell me what you think so far:) I need to know how this is from you guys' perspective. (Again, Convergent fans, please don't be upset with me. This story popped out of nowhere and I want to give it a try, like I did with Convergent. Remember, the sequel has not been scrapped. I'll still write it, and I probably won't update Convergent as fast as I used to, but I WILL try. And I hope you guys can get a chance and read this as well. Thank you.) And thank all of you guys as well!:)
Told you this would be a long note. XD