Liar. [Prologue]

Rated PG13 1

For language and violence 2

~3

I stared at the pile of dishes overflowing in the sink, flies swarming over the left overs from last night. I shoved another large bite of pizza into my mouth and wondered how we had so many dirty dishes if we never cooked. I mean, I would sometimes make myself a frozen pizza or even a cake or brownies, but we never actually used any plates. We usually just ate over the box or a paper plate in front of the television. 4

"Kelly!" My fathers voice came from the living room. "Get your fat ass in here and pick all this shit up!" 5

I winced, pushing my chair back and rushing into the living room. "What stuff?" I asked, realizing I'd vacuumed and dusted this entire room just yesterday. 6

My father glared angrily at me, and then resumed to go into a violent rant about how I never help around the house. "You know that since your mother died, I've have to pick up more work! I don't have time to clean, Kelly!" 7

"I know that." I whispered. 8

"Your mother usually cleaned. You didn't realize how good you had it, did you? You thought she would always be there for you? Well, she's gone. And guess what... It's your fault she's dead." He added the last part, smirking at me triumphantly. 9

Tears began to well up in my eyes, and I took a step away from my father. I shook my head. "I was three. I didn't mean to! I don't even remember it!" I screamed, covering my ears with my hands. Pain began to thud in my chest, and I felt my heart begin to race. 10

My father took my wrist in his blistered hand and flung me towards the T.V. I put my hands out to catch me before I could fall to the ground. I stumbled and ran into the television, causing it to fall off the wobbly table and crash to the ground. 11

'Run,' I thought, but my legs wouldn't move. 'Run, goddamn it!' I screamed at myself. 12

My father didn't say another word to me, he simply grabbed the same wrist and tossed me like a rag doll into the wall. I cried out in pain, feeling the pain of the impact fully on my right arm. I slid to the ground, tears flowing my eyes. Before I could do anything, he took my hair in his hands and pulled me to my feet. 13

"Stop!" I yelled, pushing him away from me. 14

"Don't touch me, child." He whispered into my ear. A sharp pain shot through my leg and I fell to the ground and the pain swallowed my thoughts. 15

~16