Get out, bitch

Calista POV:

My alarm buzzed under my pillow, sending a shiver through my sleep-addled brain. My eyes jolted open, the harsh morning light streaming through my window caused my eyes to squint.

"Ugh, where is that infernal phone?" I muttered groggily, squinting as my hand roamed across the bed like it had eyes of its own.

Fingers brushed over something cold and rectangular teetering on the edge of the mattress. I grabbed it just in time, my heart pounding from the near-miss.

"Oh Jesus, phew! Close call." I glanced at the screen, and my eyes widened in horror.

7:52 a.m.

"What the heck! I'm late!"

I bolted upright, adrenaline surging through my veins. Panic coursed through me as I threw off the covers and stumbled out of bed, nearly tripping over my own feet.

"Why didn't I set a louder alarm?" I scolded myself, rushing to the closet.

Flipping through my clothes in a frenzy, I grabbed the first things my hands touched.

"No time to be picky," I mumbled, yanking on a wrinkled shirt and mismatched socks.

A blue jeans and white shirt would do.

My hair was a wild mess, and I quickly ran a brush through it, wincing as it caught on knots.

"Why do I always do this to myself? I should have slept early!"

I dashed to the bathroom, splashing cold water on my face to wake up fully. I splash water on shirt to lessen up the crinkled shirt and it looked better.

"Okay, Calista, deep breaths. You can do this."

As soon as I left the bathroom and grabbed my bag, the door to my room clicked open. My mother stood there, her expression a mix of frustration and concern.

"How long are you going to take? Don't you know your breakfast is ready?" she snapped.

"I can't do breakfast, Mom. I'm late today," I replied hurriedly, trying to push past her.

"It's always like that! You're always late and you skip meals! Have you seen your face? You look pale, almost dead!" Her voice rose, exasperation evident.

"I'll eat something at school as soon as I get a break," I insisted, attempting to sidestep her. But she blocked the doorway, not budging an inch.

"Your father is mad because he has to drop you off at this time. Why don't you tell us the night before that your gonna go late today?," she said sternly, her arms crossed.

"Well, I didn't say I needed a ride. I can go alone," I shot back, frustration bubbling up inside me.

"Why? Who do you think you are? Huh? You think you're all grown up and can do things on your own?" Her eyes narrowed, challenging me.

"I'm not going to argue, Mom. If you can just give me some space, I'm already late," I said, my voice strained with impatience.

I rushed past her, nearly tripping over my own feet as I bolted down the stairs.

Why does everything have to be so complicated?

I thought to myself, adrenaline still coursing through me.

As soon as I got downstairs, I saw my father with anger blazing in his eyes. He cursed a lot, and I hated every bit of it.

Sure, cursing when you're excited can be fine, but cussing in anger....

Nah-uh and I would say A Man's test is when he is in anger.

He eyed my outfit with a scowl, and I mumbled awkwardly, "I was in a hurry, so I just wore whatever I saw."

"Get out, bitch, and sit in the car. You got me late as well!" my father spat.

Nothing out of the ordinary, its how my father reacts when in anger and best solution is silence.

I bowed my head silently and slipped out of the house, feeling a mixture of shame and frustration.

I really wanted to drink some water, but I told myself its fine I'll drink in school.

'click click,'

The car chimed as I opened the door. We didn't have any extraordinary car, a 2016 Toyota Prius but still its good.

My father had bought it when I was 14. He had been so happy then, but since he bought it on loan, he still had the installments to pay, which was a struggle given his modest salary.

I sat in the car in silence, staring straight ahead, not wanting to speak to him. The tension was thick, and his cursing made it unbearable.

For twelve minutes, we drove in dead silence, the atmosphere heavy and suffocating.

My siblings were lucky their bus comes early and they would leave for thier school. But my school was closest to our house and my father would drop me off but fun thing is I would come back home alone as he works in his office.

Luckily, it was my final year and I would soon graduate my high-school. Hopefully my parents will understand once I get in college and let me have my freedom.

Finally, the car came to a halt in front of my school. My father broke the silence, "Do you need money?"

"Oh no, I'm fine. I'll manage," I replied, eager to escape the car. I grabbed my bag and stepped out.

"Goodbye," I said, closing the door behind me. My father only nodded, not even looking at me, his eyes fixed on the road ahead.

As he drove off, I let out a sigh of relief and turned towards the school entrance.

The familiar sight of the building brought a small sense of comfort.

At least here, I could find some semblance of normalcy, away from the chaos at home.