Hey dumb fuck," a voice shouted angrily, " get up you stupid fucking ass up!"
He awoke to a foot from his deadbeat uncle kicking his side.
"Now that you are up I want you to cook breakfast and have my scotch ready!"
"Alright," he groaned. All of a sudden, a punch came out from his uncle and landed right at his eye as a Crack sounded.
He reeled back his eye swelling and a black bruise was forming.
"It yes sir, you fucking piece of shit!"
His uncle stormed out of the house slamming the front wooden door, the house shaking as it closed.
He got up, quiet as a mouse as he mulled over how his life has changed from a happy family to a dysfunction abusive relationship with his uncle.
He wiped himself off and went up to the basement, in which he slept on a tattered mattress that looks like it has been through severe hurricanes.
He changed his clothes, grabbing his notebook and textbooks getting ready for school. he left his room and walked outside, locking the front door, to a shed that sat right on the edge of the Forrest. Inside was a old motorcycle that he had restored from salvaged parts. l
He got on swinging his right leg over the seat, situating himself onto the black leather seat. The motorcycle started up with a deafening roar then died down to rumble.
With a twist of the throttle and a change of gears he was gone heading to his high school.