The bell rang and all the children exploded out of the classroom like the devil himself was chasing them. All but one little boy ran outside to the waiting parents and buses. Sammie took his time getting out of the kindergarten classroom and he slowly worked his way down the hall and out the front door. He was surrounded by parents hugging their children and kids waiting impatiently for the buses to arrive.
Sammie started on his long walk home keeping his eyes down. He talked to no one as he followed the routine of walking home alone. His only companion was his imaginary friend. Sammie talked to his friend quietly as he headed to the hell hole that was known as home. Everytime he passed someone on the road they gave him a weird look then got out of his way. No one can stand me. I am disgusting. They avoid me.
Rounding the corner onto his street, Sammie walked slower not wanting to get home. Reaching the front door, Sammie pushed on the door hoping it wouldn’t make any sound on the squeaky hinges. Once he was inside and the door was closed, Sammie tip-toed to his room peeking in the living room and his parents’ room to see if anyone was home.
To his dismay, his father was drunk passed out on the couch and his mother was slumped over on the bed with an empty bottle of alcohol near by. Sammie tried to stay as quiet as he could to avoid waking either of his parents.
“So! What are we going to do today?” Sarah, Sammie’s imaginary friend questioned in his ear rather loudly.
“Shhhhhhhh! I don’t want to wake them up.”
“Oh why not? It could be fun!”
“No! They hit way too hard. It’s not fun.”
“It’s funny to watch!” Sarah added with a wicked grin. Sammie’s parents always got way too drunk and they always got super mean when they were drunk. Sammie never had any real friends either. And his imaginary friend seemed to hate him anyway. Sammie wanted friends that actually liked him but he didn’t know what it felt like when another person wanted to be friends or even when another person cared about him.
Lost in his longing Sammie dropped his book bag on the floor harder than he had planned. The thud cut through Sammie’s peaceful day dream making him cringe and wait for the yelling to start.
“SAMMIE!” his father’s voiced bounced off the walls and down the hall. Sammie winced at the sound of the anger that echoed with the voice. Great! I’m toast!
“Sammie! Get in here now!”
“I’m coming father.” Sammie made his way to the living room hoping that he wasn’t going to hit hard tonight. It was getting hard to come up with stories to tell the other kids and the teacher about the bruises. One time his story wasn’t very convincing and the teacher got the counselors involved. The counselors called his parents and that is a beating Sammie will never forget even though he wishes he could. Those bruises where the biggest Sammie had ever had and they didn’t go away for weeks.
Sammie walked into the living room and within seconds a giant hand closed around his arm and he found himself flying across the room.
“You are a worthless pathetic excuse for a son! You don’t even know how to be quite so your mother can sleep! Have I taught you nothing?” Sammie’s mom walked in at that moment with a new bottle of alcohol in her hand.
“You should listen to your father you selfish brat!” Sammie’s mom joined in on the mental beating as the blows continued from his father.
Why can’t this be over? What have I done to deserve this? Why can’t it just be over now? With that thought Sammie’s world became blacker than a night without the moon’s loving glow.