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I'm not your typical type of girl, just because I'm a girl doesn't mean I'm into make-up, twilight, and boys. (And no I'm not gay.) I'm into hunting, writing, and Pokemon. I have my eyebrow pierced, snake bites, and two tattoos, one on my left shoulder and one on my right shoulder. I am a total outcast in school, and my own family. I don't really get along with people I don't know or like, so I tend to avoid it all together. Including my parents. To avoid all the arguing I usually stay in my room and listen to my music. But that all changed one day.

At school the other girls made fun of me, calling me goth and weirdo and stuff like that. I would usually just shake it off, but I kinda liked it. It meant I wasn't normal, one-of-a-kind thing. After school I had to walk home, so I had to walk through the middle of town. I hated that. There were so many people that looked at me like I was a freak. When I got home I went straight to my room and shut the door. Not even a minute after my father started to yell my name.

"Jessica do the dishes." and "Jessica do the laundry."

"Hang on!" I yelled back hoping he'd forget.

"Jessica!"

"Alright!" I got up and started to walk to the kitchen.

Right before I walked in my father yelled "Jessica, get off your lazy ass and get in here, now!" When he said that something snapped. I burst through the door and yelled "Why don't you get off your ass, and do something for once, you fat bastard!" I stood proud and tall for standing up for myself. He got up and slowly walked over to me, which made me back down a little.

"What did you just call me?" He talked to me like a baby.

"You heard me." Before I realized what he was doing he slapped me across my face.

I stood there and fought back the tears, it helped having my hair cover my face. "Now go to your room, you little ungrateful piece of shit." He talked in the same same voice, but firmer. I turned around and slowly walked out. I made sure that the door was shut before I ran to my room. I shut the door and slid down against it and started to cry. I buried my face in my knees. After about five minutes I walked over to my bed and lifted up my mattress and grabbed my switchblade. I had received it as a gift from my grandfather for hunting. I walked back to my door and sat down. I pulled out the blade and made three cuts on both my wrists. I watched as blood dripped from them and onto the floor.

I stopped crying and looked at my knife. I needed to hide this from my parents. I took off one of my socks and wiped up the blood on the floor.

"Got that done." I whispered to myself. I looked at the knife and got a wired feeling. I licked the blood off the knife, it tasted slightly bitter, but good. I put the knife back under my bed and got on my computer until my father called me for dinner. I put on my camouflage jacket to hide my cuts then walked to the kitchen. I just picked at my food while my parents talked. My father grabbed my plate and scrapped it into the trash and mumbled,

"Ungrateful little shit."

I walked up to my room and turned on my DS. I laid there and played Heartgold until I passed out. The next day I up to the smell of pancakes. I walked to the kitchen and seen my mother cooking breakfast. I sat at the table and she laid a plate in front of me.

"Good morning sweetie, eat up." I don't know why they treated me like a baby, then again I was a only child. I smiled weakly at her then looked back at the plate. She looked at me with concern.

"Honey, you have to eat something." I ate a piece of toast and walked back to my room. I looked at my scars on my wrists. I put on wrist bands and went back to sleep.

When I woke up it was about noon. I walked out my door and stretched. I walked to the kitchen and opened the door. I sat across from my father and he gave me the 'go to hell' look. I just smiled at him. My mother laid a sandwich in front of me. I took a few bites and pushed it away. My father grabbed the plate and ate the rest. I was about to walk out when my mother stopped me.

"Jessica, your fifteenth birthday is coming up, what would you like?" I thought about it for a moment.

"A bow, I can use it for my hunting." She nodded and I walked out to my room, usually I would get money or knives.

My birthday was in two days and just to get it over with I slept for the rest of the day. When I woke up the next day there was a pile of mail laying on the edge of my bed. They were birthday cards, I got $50 from each of them. All together I got about $200 from them. I walked to the living room where my mother greeted me.

"Good morning honey, I'm going to the store to get your cake."

"Can I come?" I didn't want to be left alone with my father.

"I wish you could, but I'm getting your present." Then she walked out the door. I tried to grab her arm, but it was too late.

I stood there and stared at the door. I turned around to see him standing there. He looked down on me, with a belt in hand.

"You know what birthdays bring?"

"Another year?" I said, backing into the door.

"No, birthday spanking." He grabbed my arm and pulled me over to the couch and bent me over his lap. He spanked me with full force, but it hurt twice as bad with a belt and I was wearing pajamas so that didn't help. After he was done he got up causing me to fall on the floor.

I lay in the floor crying and rubbing my ass. He walked off and left me there. I got up and walked to my room, still rubbing my ass. When I got to my room I looked at my hand, it was wet. I thought that I pissed myself so I changed my pants. I looked at my pant and noticed it wasn't pee, it was blood. He used the belt with the metal rivets. I got more clothes and took a shower to wash off the blood. When I got out I hid my money and laid down in my bed while my ass throbbed.

I was woken up by a noise maker being blown in my face.

"Happy birthday sweetheart!" I hated being treated like a five year old. "Get up and get dressed, I'll be in the kitchen." I groaned and rolled out of bed onto the floor. I put on my ripped jeans and clipped on the chains and put on my camouflage jacket to hide my scars. I walked to the kitchen where my mother had set everything up. My father sat at the other end of the table, half asleep. My mother lit the candle and started to sing happy birthday.

I rested my head on my arm and tried to stay awake. When she got done she handed me a small box. I opened the box and took out a switchblade with a lime green handle then stuck it in my pocket.

"Now for our present, close your eyes." I closed my eyes feeling like a little kid.

"Open them." I opened my eyes to see her holding a compound bow. I grabbed it and aimed it. After words we all ate cake and went on with our day. I was in my room messing with my bow when I heard my parents arguing in the kitchen. My room was right above the kitchen so I put my ear to the floor and listened.

"How much did that thing cost!?"

"Only $200, not that much."

"You spent $200 on that piece of shit!?" I knew my father hated me. I heard stuff being knocked over. I raised my head off the floor and deiced I didn't want to hear the rest. I laid on my bed and stared at the ceiling when my door burst open. I looked at my door and seen my father standing with a knife.

"Now it's time for my present." He started to walk towards me and raised the knife. I took out my switchblade and flipped it out.

He stopped and smiled.

"You want to fight? Go ahead, take your best shot." He lowered his hand and waited. I hesitated but took my chance. I tried to stab his stomach but he stepped aside and let me fall. He put his arm around my neck and raised the knife to my cheek and made a long cut on the top of my right cheek, then the other side. He released me and walked to my door as I laid on the floor. I looked at him and he said "Happy birthday, you little bitch." then walked off.

I got up off the floor and walked to the bathroom. I looked in the mirror, blood ran down my cheeks and neck and almost to my chest. I licked away the blood around my mouth and wiped away the rest. I deiced that if my father didn't want to be around me he didn't have to. But I knew that if I killed my father the last person that cared about me would turn on me, my mother. I had to wait for the right moment, but it had to be soon. When my mother cooked dinner I took one of her spices.

"Jessica I'm going to the store, watch the food."

The store was a good thirty minuets away so I had about an hour and a half. I walked downstairs into the kitchen and sat at the table. I sat at the table and looked at my knife. I knew my father would show once he smelt the food. Suddenly the door swung open.

"What's cooking?" He looked around for mother but only found me. "Where's your mother?"

"She went to the store." He was standing right behind me, I could feel him breathing and see his reflection in the blade. He walked over to the food and stirred the food.

I got up slowly and walked over to him and stood right behind him. He turned around and bumped into me. His hands held his stomach as he staggered back into the stove. I knew stabbing him in the stomach would give him a disadvantage. I grabbed his hand and held it over the stove and pressed it down. He screamed in pain, which made me turn up the heat. When I let go his hand was severely burned. He held one hand against his stomach and the other in his mouth.

He lay on the floor, which I thought was from losing so much blood. I grabbed another knife and stabbed him in his shoulder. He groaned in pain, he was almost dead, but I wanted him to suffer. I grabbed his hair and lifted him to the stove. There was a pot of boiling water sitting on the stove. I turned it up as high as it would go. I dunked his head and he tried to shake me lose but he had used all his strength. I pulled his head out, it was red and steaming. He breathed heavily and tried to pull away from my grip.

I bent down and whispered, "The predator will get its prey." Then dunked his head in the water. He fought for a while, then his body went limp. I let go and he fell to the ground. I walked to my room and grabbed all my knives and put my bow on my back. Then I walked to my closet and opened it. My most prized possession, my rifle. I loaded it and put on my shoes and packed all the stuff I wanted to take in a small bag. (Games, ammo, money, most of my knives, etc.) I walked back to the kitchen and looked at my father.

"You got what you deserved." I pulled up my hood and walked into the woods and never looked back, while my eyes glowed in the darkness.

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