Here we go.

Five,four...three..two... My door was kicked open by James, foster father. And no, it doesn't have a lock. Why? You'll find out along the way.

"Anabella!!! I told you not to leave the light in the sitting room turned on it makes me.... Angry?"he roared staggering obviously drunk, towards the light switch of my room and turning it on to locate me.

Firstly I didn't even come out of my room the whole day so how did I even... Oh forget it.
He always finds a fault anyway..... Oh in this case, creates one.

One time it's because he wants chicken instead of beef another time the food is too hot. I mean come on I spent my money to cook his picture perfect meal I thought he'd at least be knocked out by now from how much he ate.

"I took you in and this is what I get. No peace huh" .

Here we go again.
He was now very close to my face. I can smell cheap rum from his breath which is obnoxious. But I swallowed my throw up because that would earn me another round of beatings.

You're probably wondering why I didn't bother to run and hide.

What's the point, he'll find me anyways no matter where I go.
And besides, as he says "hiding only makes it fun", for him that is.

He didn't make it to me though at first, He tripped on his own foot. Don't ask. It's possible with him. And now his whole dead weight was now on me.

I didn't know how to react, push him off he'll kill me, don't push him off, I'll probably pass out,

he's not really the fittest man around,and I can only take about enough of his body stench before I throw up..

Against all odds. I tried to go for the former. Notice the Tried right there.

Before I could he hit my stomach with his knee.

"You little brat you made me trip huh! "You". Hit. "Think". Hit. "It's funny?." Hit. Followed by series of punches on my abdominal area

. I sucked in the scream. Vanilla ice cream, vanilla cookies, vanilla cake.

I kept thinking about all forms of vanilla. Until I heard his room door close.

He left a bruise on my stomach and neck. I even had a bloody nose. I chuckled bitterly. He must be really mad this time. I hurried to the cabinet to get what to nurse my injury with.

I was running short on cotton wool. I'll fixed that later.

We live at his ex wife's house , it's a simple three bedroom house two rooms upstairs and I'm upstairs, right next to him.

I pay for literarily everything... Which just includes food... All he does is gamble and drink

I can't help but think back. When I was happy with mum and Dad. And how it all happened. It's funny how your life can change in a day. Because of one stupid shot.... Or rather two.

**************

"Ana!!"

"Yes mummy"  I answer

"Hopefully it's a cookie" I thought skipping

"bring your Dollie let's go" I hurriedly stuff My favorite doll into my back pack.

"Where's we going Moma" I ask as she hurriedly zips a suitcase

"Honey hurry I got us a flight scheduled to leave in the next fifteen minutes" my dad called out from the sitting room struggling with some suitcases.

Then it dawned on me. " We're moving!? Again?.

Mum you said we wouldn't have to move again" I say folding my arms I'm defiance

" l know honey. But we really have to go." My mum says pulling at my arms.

" But mum what about Jenna I can't leave, I just made friends."

"Honey we don't have time. You'll call Jenna later okay?" . I ignore her turning my head my head the other way.

"Honey do something" she says turning to my dad helplessly

"We really have to go dear" my dad checking the time on his wrist watch and trying picking me up.

"No!!" I struggled and moved from his hold.

"We already moved four times already in just two years. I'll have to make friends again" I scream...