Adriana P.O.V.

Sitting in the library under the ancient Mrs. Snow's watchful glaring cold eyes was uncomfortable and awful. Mrs. Snow was an old lady with flat short grey hair and large sunken eyes that could give you a glare so cold it made a blizzard seem like a sunny San Diego day. I think she only works as a librarian because she enjoys making children uncomfortable and scared. Mrs. Snow never talked however. Heck she didn't need to. The bell finally rang, signaling the end of school. I leaped up and waved good-bye to Mrs. Snow. She frowned and moved her tiny glasses up her jutting nose. Shivering, I quietly closed the door to the library and ran home.

~~~~~~~~~

I cautiously opened the door of the apartment, breathing heavy from running home. We didn't have enough money to buy me a car so I just walked everywhere or occasionally rode the rusty bike I found when I was twelve. I looked around the living room and it was empty except for the expected bottles.

I heard faint humming coming from the kitchen. I walked forward, almost tripping over a suitcase tucked by the couch. Why was there a suitcase here? Cursing under my breath I rubbed my stubbed toe. I peered into the kitchen and to my shock, I saw Dad making hot chocolate. I felt a grin break out across my face and I skipped towards him,

"This is like the hot chocolate you used to make me when I was little, Dad!"

He gave me a sheepish smile and replied,

"Five marshmallows right?"

Feeling a bubble of happiness welling up in my chest, I nodded. He sat it down at the table and motioned for me to sit down in the chair across from him. Grinning, I lifted the steaming drink to my lips. I frowned slightly when I thought caught a whiff of something sugary sour. But soon after all I smelled was chocolate. I sipped it and sighed. It was perfect. Dad was smiling tiredly at me. I frowned and asked,

"Are you ok, Dad?"

Dad nodded and yawned,

"Just busy today."

I frowned harder. Dad was never busy. The room started to swim in my eyes and I dropped the mug, shattering it on the ground. My hands were quivering and my throat felt like it was closing up. I croaked out,

"D-D-Dad? W-What d-did you p-put i-i-in this?"

I tried to stand up but my legs couldn't support my weight and I crumbled to the ground on top of the shattered mug. I barely felt the shards dig into my numb body. I whimpered,

"Daddy?"

I felt like my body was being crushed and pressure built up behind my eyes. I could do no more than twitch. Terror filled me and I heard just before the pressure exploded in my head was Dad's quiet voice filled with anguish,

"I am so sorry Miranda."

A feathery light kiss brushed across my burning forehead. Miranda was my mother's name, my dead mother's name. I blacked out and knew no more.

~~~~~~~~~

I groggily struggled to consciousness. Agony filled my body as I tried to move. I let out a scream as I shoved myself into a sitting position. There was a pool of blood where I was laying and a few shards of glass lay in it. I sobbed and felt like I was about to faint when I realized most of the mug was embedded in my back. I called out in a shaky voice,

"Daddy?"

I crawled forward out of the kitchen. The suitcase was gone.

I crawled into the bathroom and sat on top of the toilet seat, trying to control my terrified gasping. I looked in the mirror and the world lurched under my feet at what I saw. The mug had broken in half and the half was stuck in my back. A few random shards were around it. Dried blood was crusted onto my back around the wound and fresh blood trickled down my pale back. I must have opened the wounds when I moved. I took a deep breath and grabbed pulled the small pieces out. My jaw was clenched just painfully tight as I fought the urge to scream.

When all was left was the largest piece I took a deep shaky breath and my fingers trembled as I grabbed the jagged edge. I squeezed my eyes shut and pulled it out. I let out a strangled scream and I dropped the bloodied glass. I sobbed and I looked at the torn flesh of my back. I probably needed stitches. I quivered with horror. If I went to the hospital they would ask about Dad and they would see the purple bruises and scars from where he has hit me and shattered bottles on my bare skin. They would take me away from him and I would be put in an orphanage since I was only seventeen. Hot tears fell from my dull green eyes.

I hobbled into the living room and collapsed on the disgusting stained couch but at the moment it felt like the softest mattress on my tortured back. I soaked a white towel in rubbing alcohol and slowly placed it on my back. I sobbed in agony at the brutal sting. I collapsed onto the couch and fought to stay conscious. Part of me wanted to give in and escape the pain racking through my body but a bigger part of me was scared of Dad finding me like this. I opened my teary eyes and saw a scrap of paper on the small wood table. I reached for it and found my Dad's familiar hand writing sprawled across the pale paper. With trembling fingers holding the letter close to my face, I read it.

Dear Adriana,

I am so sorry things have to end this way. I realized I am hurting you. Miranda would have never forgiven me if she saw me like this. She most certainly would not have forgiven me for hurting you. I need to start fresh. I need to start a new life, a new life without you. This is not your fault. I know I said it was many times with a bottle in my hand but it isn't. If it means anything, I still love you but I can't live this life any more. It isn't fair on you and it disrespects your mother's memory. I am leaving. I just can't do it. I have left you all the money I could and also my car. I can't leave you much unfortunately. You can make it till you are eighteen then you are your own woman then. You will get through this; you are strong, just like her. I am not strong. I am a coward. I am glad I got to see you smile one more time though. You look so much like her. If you are half the woman your mother was you will be a blessing to this world. I hope you take after her not me. I wish I could tell you where I was going but I can't. While I need to start a new life, you need to start a new life more; A happy life without me. Stay strong and I love you.

Love, Dad

I let the letter fall out of my hands. I started blankly ahead of me and tried to comprehend what I had just read. My Dad, my only parent, had left me. I was abandoned, an orphan. The word orphan seemed to mock me. Tears fell out of my eyes and I hadn't even realized it. I swiped at them but they just kept coming. The pain built up inside of me, crawling and scratching, trying to get out. I collapsed onto the ground on my knees and the scream ripped out of my throat.

I screamed at the unfairness of it all. I screamed at all the pain I felt. I screamed at being abandoned. I screamed at my Dad and his weakness for a drink. I screamed at the world. I screamed till my throat ached and throbbed and I could scream no more. I collapsed onto the musty filthy carpet and cried till I had no more tears left to shed.

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