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Description
Somehow, you could say that I was a lively person, always cheery and fun to hang out with. Anywhere and anytime, I would make the most boring things into a sparkling, brand new, funny game.
I was lively. Not anymore…

I think it all started way before I can remember. All I knew was that my parents always fought. I didn't (and still don't) know why they always had to make a fight out of everything.
When I was at the age of eight, my mother finally snapped, packed all her belongings and stomped out the front door. We never saw her again, but a few months later, we found her engagement ring on the porch. After that, dad sold both hers and his own ring, buying vodka and God-knows what kinds of alcohol for the money, claiming that 'this, my new wife, would never leave me! She's only here for my pleasure!' while waving around with a big bottle.
He couldn't stop his alcohol consume, and within half a year (I swear, only half a year!) he had become an alcoholic.
At school I acted as if nothing had happened at all, and put on my quickly growing mask of pure happiness and energy, only glad to be away from the monster at home. As soon as school was over, and I had locked the door of our apartment, the mask fell off. I hadn't anything to be happy for, so why did I keep on smiling? My life was ruined, so I shouldn't be happy over anything.
Washing, cleaning, cooking, and running our place was my job. I did everything without complaining or stopping, because if I did, a fist would wait as an answer, so I just did it. Often he would beat me up, saying it was my fault mom left us, or telling me that I was hopeless, and asking me why he didn't just throw me out on the street. When he did those sorts of things, I would show up on school with cuts and bruises claiming that my cat was weary pissed off at me for something. Stupid people as those in school even believed it. I didn't even have a cat! No one ever suspected a thing, after all… I acted like a happy child… of course they never thought of the saying "The happiest people are those who have experienced the most pain."

Anyway, you could call my life an undercover nightmare, living hell whatever you choose, it was the worst!

After five years, five damned, bloody years, I finally had enough. That morning exactly five years after my mother had stormed out of the door, tears in her eyes, and with the final words "Good bye! I hope we'll never meet again!"… That morning I broke my mask. I was going to show the world my true colors. No more secrets!

School that day, was the hardest day I'd ever had. Just showing up and seeing everybody without the protection of my mask was hard. But when everybody started asking what was wrong, I really felt the tears trying to break free, but I kept them in. no way in hell I'm crying at school! It didn't help at all that my wounds were hurting much more than usual. It felt like a beating pulse was chasing through every single one of them. All I really wanted to do was scream and hide somewhere where no one could find me, but I couldn't.

When I arrived home, a plan had finally cracked out in my disturbed mind. Quickly I checked that he was still asleep on the couch, and started the preparations.
I grabbed quite a few bottles of vodka, and ran around in the apartment, breaking at least one per room and smearing the blank, sticky liquid on the walls. It was hard work, and took longer than I had expected, so soon I was left to work in utter darkness. Without the sunshine lighting up the thoughts of what I was going to seemed even darker.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

I was finally done with the hard work, and was cleaning my fingers for the sticky alcohol when grunts could be heard from the sofa. The monster was waking up, that was not good! Icing cold sweat ran down my back, and the whole room seemed to shrink when I heard his footsteps slowly make their way towards the bathroom. Towards me!
As quickly as I could, I dried my hands and made my way to the door; only to meet him standing right on the other side of the doorframe. The darkness of the hallway illuminated his features, and made him seem even scarier.
The next thing I knew was that my head hit the oh-so sticky wall. A sharp pain was pondering around in my whole body making me dizzy. It felt like, it really felt like I'd gotten a big gap in the back of my head. Warm liquid was soaking my tank top from behind, and a little voice kept singing like clinging bells that it was my own blood.

"Where do you think you're going?" he asked, his voice sounding dangerously kind, almost like the purring of a cat… "Where do you think you're going!?" I was sure now; he had a bad case of 'I-drank-too-much-and-now-my-head-hurts-like-hell' or as it's called: a hangover. "And where is my vodka, you little bitch?!"
I suddenly felt the urge to chop his neck up into sushi with my kitchen knife. This man had ruined my life, taken everything I cared about and made it disappear. He had made my life a living hell, and there he stood calling me a bitch!?

"How should I know you old geezer?" I snapped "It's not me who drowns their problems in alcohol! It's not me who's a fucking alcoholic! It's not me! It's you! So get the hell away from me!"
With that I broke away from his grasp. I was so angry! I wanted to fucking kill that guy!

…And that was exactly what I was going to do…

With a BANG! I smacked our entrance-door closed. From the inside, I could hear his muffled shouts and curses mixing well with his tripping footsteps. A hangover indeed.

I let my fingers gently stroke the door, and felt the alcohol make its way from the hard wood to my fingertips. I'd never felt so happy for the evil liquid before. With a swift movement, I pulled out the death bringing instrument. A 'click' and a little flame lit up the dark hallway. I let the flame get teased few seconds, before letting it go. I stood there, and watched the door to my living hell be consumed in an orange bliss.

~*~*~*~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

From the outside of the giant building, I could see flames make their way through the wood. Soon the whole building was caught in the violent flames grip. As I watched, I could feel my soul go dark. He was gone, and I was free.
Once more, my eyes traveled to the dancing flames. 'This color no longer resembles me'
I thought, before I turned, and disappeared into the dark night…

Description
Somehow, you could say that I was a lively person, always cheery and fun to hang out with. Anywhere and anytime, I would make the most boring things into a sparkling, brand new, funny game.
I was lively. Not anymore…

I think it all started way before I can remember. All I knew was that my parents always fought. I didn't (and still don't) know why they always had to make a fight out of everything.
When I was at the age of eight, my mother finally snapped, packed all her belongings and stomped out the front door. We never saw her again, but a few months later, we found her engagement ring on the porch. After that, dad sold both hers and his own ring, buying vodka and God-knows what kinds of alcohol for the money, claiming that 'this, my new wife, would never leave me! She's only here for my pleasure!' while waving around with a big bottle.
He couldn't stop his alcohol consume, and within half a year (I swear, only half a year!) he had become an alcoholic.
At school I acted as if nothing had happened at all, and put on my quickly growing mask of pure happiness and energy, only glad to be away from the monster at home. As soon as school was over, and I had locked the door of our apartment, the mask fell off. I hadn't anything to be happy for, so why did I keep on smiling? My life was ruined, so I shouldn't be happy over anything.
Washing, cleaning, cooking, and running our place was my job. I did everything without complaining or stopping, because if I did, a fist would wait as an answer, so I just did it. Often he would beat me up, saying it was my fault mom left us, or telling me that I was hopeless, and asking me why he didn't just throw me out on the street. When he did those sorts of things, I would show up on school with cuts and bruises claiming that my cat was weary pissed off at me for something. Stupid people as those in school even believed it. I didn't even have a cat! No one ever suspected a thing, after all… I acted like a happy child… of course they never thought of the saying "The happiest people are those who have experienced the most pain."

Anyway, you could call my life an undercover nightmare, living hell whatever you choose, it was the worst!

After five years, five damned, bloody years, I finally had enough. That morning exactly five years after my mother had stormed out of the door, tears in her eyes, and with the final words "Good bye! I hope we'll never meet again!"… That morning I broke my mask. I was going to show the world my true colors. No more secrets!

School that day, was the hardest day I'd ever had. Just showing up and seeing everybody without the protection of my mask was hard. But when everybody started asking what was wrong, I really felt the tears trying to break free, but I kept them in. no way in hell I'm crying at school! It didn't help at all that my wounds were hurting much more than usual. It felt like a beating pulse was chasing through every single one of them. All I really wanted to do was scream and hide somewhere where no one could find me, but I couldn't.

When I arrived home, a plan had finally cracked out in my disturbed mind. Quickly I checked that he was still asleep on the couch, and started the preparations.
I grabbed quite a few bottles of vodka, and ran around in the apartment, breaking at least one per room and smearing the blank, sticky liquid on the walls. It was hard work, and took longer than I had expected, so soon I was left to work in utter darkness. Without the sunshine lighting up the thoughts of what I was going to seemed even darker.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

I was finally done with the hard work, and was cleaning my fingers for the sticky alcohol when grunts could be heard from the sofa. The monster was waking up, that was not good! Icing cold sweat ran down my back, and the whole room seemed to shrink when I heard his footsteps slowly make their way towards the bathroom. Towards me!
As quickly as I could, I dried my hands and made my way to the door; only to meet him standing right on the other side of the doorframe. The darkness of the hallway illuminated his features, and made him seem even scarier.
The next thing I knew was that my head hit the oh-so sticky wall. A sharp pain was pondering around in my whole body making me dizzy. It felt like, it really felt like I'd gotten a big gap in the back of my head. Warm liquid was soaking my tank top from behind, and a little voice kept singing like clinging bells that it was my own blood.

"Where do you think you're going?" he asked, his voice sounding dangerously kind, almost like the purring of a cat… "Where do you think you're going!?" I was sure now; he had a bad case of 'I-drank-too-much-and-now-my-head-hurts-like-hell' or as it's called: a hangover. "And where is my vodka, you little bitch?!"
I suddenly felt the urge to chop his neck up into sushi with my kitchen knife. This man had ruined my life, taken everything I cared about and made it disappear. He had made my life a living hell, and there he stood calling me a bitch!?

"How should I know you old geezer?" I snapped "It's not me who drowns their problems in alcohol! It's not me who's a fucking alcoholic! It's not me! It's you! So get the hell away from me!"
With that I broke away from his grasp. I was so angry! I wanted to fucking kill that guy!

…And that was exactly what I was going to do…

With a BANG! I smacked our entrance-door closed. From the inside, I could hear his muffled shouts and curses mixing well with his tripping footsteps. A hangover indeed.

I let my fingers gently stroke the door, and felt the alcohol make its way from the hard wood to my fingertips. I'd never felt so happy for the evil liquid before. With a swift movement, I pulled out the death bringing instrument. A 'click' and a little flame lit up the dark hallway. I let the flame get teased few seconds, before letting it go. I stood there, and watched the door to my living hell be consumed in an orange bliss.

~*~*~*~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

From the outside of the giant building, I could see flames make their way through the wood. Soon the whole building was caught in the violent flames grip. As I watched, I could feel my soul go dark. He was gone, and I was free.
Once more, my eyes traveled to the dancing flames. 'This color no longer resembles me'
I thought, before I turned, and disappeared into the dark night…