It was dark and cold as I stood upon the top of the bridge looking down at my city. I call it mine cause someone has to claim it and take control of it. I could see everything from were I was, it's an amazing feeling watching all of the happiness and safty of my city from above like no-one else can. Power can only take you as far as you let it, let alone make it. It's not the strength of the power, it's the strength of the beholder. These are a few of the many things I've learnt over the past year or so. I remember how it all started like it was yesturday...
I could here the fighting and screaming no matter how mutch I turned my radio up. "You fucking ungrateful whore! Piece of shit women, go get my fucking god damn beer!" And all I heard as a reply was crying. I knew my mom was lying on the floor bawling as her newest dirtbag boyfriend drank and yelled and he had probably hit her a few times. I turned my music up even louder hoping the drum solo would calm my nerves. I felt the heat in my face and knew it wasnt going away. I reached behind my bedroom door and grabed my wooden baseball bat... I gripped it as tight as I possibly could. I had to act while I still felt the anger that gave me the balls to do this. I swung my door open as hard as I could. I stepped into the dark loud room, I saw him standing above her.
"Hey," my weak voice cracked. I knew he couldnt hear me. "I said hey!" I yelled a little louder feeling brave as I gripped the bat behind my back. The large man stood straight and turned towards me with his hand still raised to my mother.
"What?" his voice boomed, sending spit every were.
"Back the fuck off her..!" I squeaked.
"Look at the 5 foot, hundred pound, scrawny kid trying be a man. How old are you, ya little shit, 12?" he laughed at his own joke. I knew he was right, I was way too small to be standing up to him.im only 16 and standing up to a full grown drunk ass whole regardlessly i wasnt backing down. "look fuckstick i said chill the fuck out