Jenna hurried back home, she was late, way too late.
Time flew by really fast when she was with Adam, one minute it was 5pm and the next it was 8:50pm. She didn't know how, but it just did.
Maybe it was the way he never broke eye contact with her as he fed her, maybe it was the clear interest in his eyes and how he cared so gently for her. He had Jenna hung on every little one of his actions.
Jenna walked faster, she was 30 minutes behind her curfew, she knew she was screwed but she couldn't help the grin that had fixed itself on her face since the time he dropped her at the train station.
"You're going to regret not listening to me" the voice hissed, it was rightfully pissed, Jenna had disregarded every single warning it had given her, "when shit hits the fan don't come running back to me"
She knew shit would hit the fan soon, it always did. Her happiness never lasted long, it was always like a premonition for the disaster that awaited her, despair and sadness always followed the slightest feeling of happiness for her.
Her lungs burnt from the effort of running fast but it didn't feel as bad as before, it probably had something to do with the fact that her stomach was full.
This was the fullest Jenna had ever been, her stomach felt bloated, it was slightly painful but it was an enjoyable pain.
She could see the worn-down Oak wood of her house in the distance, the streets were littered with cigarette butts and empty bottles of liquor. The street smelt like stale urine and crap,
The humidity of the weather made the smell stronger, and the fact that she was running made her take in more of the smell than she would have loved to.
As she got closer, she could hear crying, it was loud and clear like the wailing of a siren. She knew the cries came from her home; it was a signatory work of her father.
An old man spat at Jenna's passing figure, it landed on the tip of her shoe. She was disgusted but she faced forward, she was used to it. Everyone in the neighborhood hated her dad even though they were all junkies as well.
They said he made the neighborhood shittier than it already was, as a result they hated his kids too, they hated her as well.
She could understand, she'd hate her family too if she were anyone else, heck, she's his flesh and blood and her hatred for her father ran so deep it ached her bones.
She stopped in front of the door and started searching her bag for the key to the door.
Jenna's mind was still deep in the action of searching for her keys when the front door swung open, a strong arm reached out and pulled her in by the hair.
She half expected it, in an instant had her hands up in a guard position, protecting her face for the impending onslaught of slaps that awaited her.
"You ungrateful bitch!" her father roared, he always roared. Jenna could never remember a moment when his voice was calm, it was always loud and ear piercing.
Her body was flung backwards and her back hit the arm rest of a chair, the air left Jenna's lungs in an instant as a piercing pain ran down her spine. She wouldn't scream, she knew it fueled him more, it was like music to his ear.
"Where have you been?" he asked menacingly as he squatted over Jenna's trembling figure. He wound his hand in her hair and tugged roughly at it, rough enough that a few strands fell out and tears welled in Jenna's eyes.
Jenna didn't answer, he didn't deserve to hear a word from her. She had vowed never to answer him, never to speak a word to him unless the situation was so dire that it needed her to speak, and this situation didn't deserve her voice.
He raised his hand and slapped Jenna hard, she tasted blood, its sweet metallic taste ran on her tongue and made her squeeze her eyes shut.
"You've been fucking around like your slut of a mother, haven't you?" he barked, it was just like a dog, at least that was how it sounded to Jenna.
Her father raised his hand to slap her once more but stopped when he saw her bored expression, it was always like this.
Her father enjoyed beating her mother, according to him she always made the best expressions, and her voice when she begged him to stop sounded like a moan.
It was disgusting, it was the exact same reason he beat Jenna up, he wanted to hear her beg him while crying but Jenna never did. She never cried, never begged for him to stop, she only watched him with a bored expression.
It irritated her father, she knew it, he knew she did it on purpose but there was nothing he could do about it.
"Since you want to be a cunt, then I know the best thing to do to you" her father taunted, he pushed her face with so much force Jenna knew her neck would be sore the next morning, "No food for you this night"
A shiver ran down Jenna's spine, the voice wasn't right this time. It was slightly off and it had never been off, not even in the slightest.
The voice said she would regret sitting down and eating with Adam, but it was wrong. Missing dinner in this house didn't sound bad to her now that she had eaten more than she had ever done in her life.
Jenna sat on the floor; she watched her father tother like a toddler into the kitchen. He was no doubt looking for her mother.
Every time her father beat someone up, he fucked her mom, it was a turn on for him. He always said he fucked better when the aggression was still running through his veins.
That wasn't Jenna's business, it was her mom's and only she would bear that cross
A small hand outstretched a tattered band aid to Jenna, she turned her eyes from the kitchen door to the owner of the small hand. It was one of the kids that slept in her room, a dependent one.
"Here" it said, the small hand outstretched further, patiently waiting for Jenna to accept its token of kindness. Jenna was too tired fort that, she didn't want to form an attachment or bond with it.
It was hard enough for her to always give them money once in a while, she wasn't ready to build any emotional bond with any of her siblings.
She stood up slowly and ignored its attempt at creating a bond. She didn't want to get attached to any of them, she knew she wouldn't be able to handle it if her father laid his hands on them while she was there.
She was too tired and drained to waste any more of her nonexistent energy crying over anyone else, she didn't even have the energy to cry over her own problems.