Have you ever thought about what fiction is? Probably, such a question may seem surprising: and so everything is clear. Every person throughout his life has to repeatedly create the works he needs for specific purposes - statements, autobiographies, dictations - using not gypsum or clay, not musical notes, not paints, but just a word. At the same time, almost every person will be very surprised if he is told that he thereby created a work of fiction, which is very different from visual art, music and sculpture making. However, everyone understands that a student's essay or dictation is fundamentally different from novels, short stories, news that are created by professional writers. In the works of professionals there is the most important difference - excogitation. But, oddly enough, in a school literature course, you don’t realize the full power of fiction. So using our website in your free time discover fiction for yourself. Unwanted by Averie-Nicole Miller (shoe dog free ebook TXT) 📖
- Author: Averie-Nicole Miller
Book online «Unwanted by Averie-Nicole Miller (shoe dog free ebook TXT) 📖». Author Averie-Nicole Miller
Its funny when grownups lie to you. You think they are your heros until, you find out the beasts they can be. I found that out the hard way, my father was a beast, the worst form there is. He was addicted, but not addicted to life like how we are suppose to be. Hell, he wasn't even addicted to normal addictions..he was addicted to pain, to hurt. I guess that counts, an addiction is basically something you love right? Well thats his. I know all to well, that one swig of licour, and he's like a boxer and I'm his punching bag. It started when I was younger, and my mother had just died, she was my protector. Before she died, he used to treat me like an angel, but after she died, he blammed me, and even when I told myself it wasn't my fault, his abuse made me slip. I felt like trash, and the teasing at school didn't help. I started drugs as a release, but that kept getting me in trouble. Drugs was a way to hide the pain and not have to deal with anything, but thats not going to help me right now as I sit in the back of my new case-workers bmw. If I remember correctly, her names Mrs.Angie. I was found on the side of the street after my second attempt to free my self from the pain. I had my head against the seat, earbuds pushed into my ears tuning out everything she said. She stared at me through the rear-veiw mirror and sighed. I pulled out my ear phones.
"Tatum... can you try to pay attention? Im talking about your new home." She said and glanced from the road to the mirror.
"My old home was better.." I retorted and pulled my hair on one side.
"Now Tatum, that isn't..." I cutt her off mid-sentence.
"I was fine until your officers had to talk me in. Yet I find it funny, when none of you got off your asses and helped when I was being hit." I half scremed at her and felt a silent tear race down my cheek.
ImprintPublication Date: 05-19-2014
All Rights Reserved
Comments (0)