To Make or to Take

Rushing through the cellar/ my room, grabbing my bandages, re-rapping my wounds, and getting dressed, a smile bloomed on my face, and a feeling of joy pumped my heart. I grabbed my rusty, torn notebook and placed it in my bag after cleaning it and then placed my favorite book in it as well. Making sure no blood, or stains was on my new clothing, I walked up the stairs and knocked, waiting patiently as he opened the door letting the sun light glare in my eyes, it had been so long since I went outside, and yet it was as beautiful as ever. He looked at me growling softly as if he had something in his throat, and handed me a phone that had only one contact number inside that read "Beloved Dad." Feeling weak in my stomach I decided to change the name but waited till I arrived at my new and only school.

Stepping out of my fathers beat up, pale green truck I shut the door and paced forward far enough to still hear the screech from the old breaks he's never fixed, taking my first deep breath of fresh air I walked in the double doors.