Nalaniangel24
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Registered: 04-2004
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Emma's Story
Emma's Story
By Nalaniangel
rated G
Summary: A look at what Emma's past might have been.
"Shut up you little whore."
I look up at my father, a drunken bastard with a beer in one hand and the remote in the other. He's parked on the couch, in the spot that's already sagged down because of his bulging mass. It's a far cry from me, his daughter, who at the moment is in a corner, trying to get up the courage to run past him to the front door. He thinks I'm a whore or a drug dealer, whichever one comes up first in his mind while he's yelling at me. I think it's because he thinks he lives in a normal standard of living, that every man spends his nights starting out with drinking beer watching sports, then masturbating in front of the porn. If I'm above that standard of living, which thankfully I am, my father comes down on me hard.
Before he got laid off and we actually had money for luxury items like the telephone, real meat, and cable, he was a good man. My mom says that that's why she married him. I sometimes wonder if she could trade in the life she has right now, which includes me, for a life in which she never met my dad, what she would choose. I know I'm important to her, I never doubted her love, but my dad can be unbearable sometimes.
My mom spends her time calling up the spirits of dead relatives and neighbors or anyone who's floating around. The little kid spirits would rather come to me, I know, and some of them even have. We play together, or we used to, that was before I had to grow up too fast.
I like to dream about the future and what it'll hold for me. I know it has to be something great because my childhood has sucked and I'm due for some good fortune. Not that I'll get anywhere with being a New Mutant and working at a department store. Who knows who will come in the store, though? Six years ago if someone would have told me what I would be like today, I would have been in shock. I hope that six years after today, I'll look back and be in shock at how far I've come.
Until then though-
"Why are you still standing there?" my father yells at me. Quickly I run for the door. "Pick up some beer while you're out!"
"Sure," I whisper, leaving. I hope I'm right. It can't get worse than this.
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4/24/2004, 7:34 pm
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