197 words (1-1.5 minutes)

     That's all I hear, "Oh, honey, it'll be okay." The thing they don't know though is that it was never bad that he died. I don't care that he died, and I know that may make me sound evil, but I say it from the bottom of my heart. Why didn't they tell me it would be okay for the 5 years I had to live with him and watch him slowly beat my mother to death. Why didn't they say it would be okay when he came home drunk every night. And why didn't they tell me it'd get better when I had to clean up his barf whenever he did come home drunk. I could have used it then, not now.

     I never loved him, and that's the truth. I don't think I will ever forgive my mom for bringing him into my life thinking he could replace my dad. As for me, well, I intend to finish school. I won't let a little matter like this ruin my life. There is one problem, though. What do I do about shelter? And money? I am only 16. What happens now?