Can't Take One More Day

"You stupid, selfish bitch." Her mother screamed, "I work my ass off for you ever day. From sunrise to sundown, I'm always working. Maybe at work or maybe just in my mind, but I'm always working. I don't know who you fucking think you are to tell me I never stop what I'm doing to do something else. And don't you dare fucking tell me that I'm being unfair and your sister doesn't do anything. I yell at her plenty to."

Her hands slammed down on the laptop, almost crushing the small girl's hands. "Don't you fucking even think about going on my laptop, you ungrateful bitch. I don't even believe you're a Christian because you certainly aren't acting like one. Stopping play that goddamn good kid, because no one is buying it, everyone knows that you're truly a selfish, disrespectful bitch."

Tears streamed down the girls face but the women didn't stop, "I'm glad I'm done for the weekend, because I don't think I can fucking stand another minute with you."

The young girl swallowed hard, thinking in her head I don't think I could stand another minute with you either.

She swallowed in guilt, why did she have to be so stubborn? It was not one of her best traits at times.

Her nineteen year old sister entered the room, the door pushing closed behind her, bring in the faint smell of alcohol and throw up.

"Are you done packing?" the women asked, pointing at the older girl. She shook her head, walking through the room and out the opposite door.

"I don't want to see your face for the rest of the fucking night, and maybe not tomorrow." The woman yelled, before following the older girl's path out of the room.

"Well it's hard to do that when my room's a hallway," the girl muttered under her breath after the door slammed shut.

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Grabbing a towel from the cabinet and heading into the bathroom, the girl stepped on something gross and mushy.

The horrid smell of alcohol and throw up mixed together consumed the girl, and she gagged a little stepping out of the room. The throw up was pushed to the side with a towel, smearing across the floor and it was almost enough to send her stomach into a fit.

"Hey mom?" the girl asked, entering her mother's bedroom with a nock, "there's some throw up covered up by a towel in my bathroom . . ."

"What's your point?" the women snapped, turning away from the girl and back to the television.

"Well," she started, "it's been there for three days and Amanda leaves tomorrow for a college, and I just think she's never going to clean it up . . ."

"If you bug her about it, she'll never do it." The women said, not even looking at the girl.

"I know, that's why I was thinking you should tell her too, like you know, when you tell me to clean something and I don't do it. You give me a punishment and I get it done."

"Go to your room!" she screamed, "I told you not to bug her about it."

"But mom, she does it all the time, she won't clean it up! And I'm not cleaning up her puke."

"You'll do whatever the hell I tell you too!" the women, screamed, glaring at the girl, but she was long gone, the door slamming behind her. "And don't fucking slam doors!"

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"Her mom and sister left early this morning and the puke lay untouched on the bathroom floor.

Putting a mask on, and pushing it into a trash bag, the throw up was gone and the room sprayed with fiberize it was almost unbearable.

Smiling a small sad smile, she got ready to head to church, wiping away her tears as her mom's voice echoed in her head.

One of her friend's mom picked the girl up, and by then all that was on her face was a smile. On the way home, her mother called the women.

"Oh no, she was lovely! It's no probably to take her, she's such a sweetheart. Mrs. Davis even commented on how nice your daughter was, and some of the visitors sent praised your way about her too."

The girl could almost imagine her mother, rolling her but taking the credit for how nice she was.

The girl's smile faded as she walked to her house, after waving goodbye. She sat down on the front step, a small tear escaping her eye, before wiping it away. Be strong. She reminded herself, mentally counting the days until she was out of here, at least for school.

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She smiled, a true, genuine smile as she walked around her room, gratefully for everything she had, when she heard the door open, the back slamming into the wall slightly.

"Hey dad," she greeted the man.

"Hello kid," he answered, "How long until we get rid of you?" he asked it jokingly, but the girl still held back her flinch.

She laughed forcibly but the man didn't seem to notice.

"What the fuck is that?" the man asked, pointing to where she taped song lyrics on the wall, "She dreamed a dream that never came true, but the sky were always blue, and a smile was always on her face."

"Um, they're lyrics to a song." She answered.

"Take them down now," he told her.

"Why?" she asked turning to them.

"Because I said so!" he yelled, grabbing her arm.

"Okay," she whispered, backing away as he left the room, sliding down the wall, clutching the lyrics in her hands as she fell.

Don't cry. She told herself

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"You damn fucking bitch!" the women screamed, pacing in front of her with the broken broom in her hand.

"I didn't mean to," she said, ignoring the tears running down her checks, and hold herself from wiping them away, "I had it on the ground, and I moved the chair to sweep under the piano like you asked and I accidently set it down on top and it snapped. I'm sorry!"

"Sorry isn't good enough! I asked you to sweep not break my broom and cost me money!" the women yelled, tossing the broom behind her and wiping around at the sound of a crash.

Her favorite glass angel lay on the floor in pieces, the second one tinkering on the edge, ready to fall. The women snatched it, turning to the girl, "Look what you did now! You broke my angel! You have a lot of money to pay me back! You damn bitch!"

"I'm sorry," the girl apologized, "but I didn't break the angel, you threw the broom."

Crash, the angel smashed to pieces and her head spin from when she wacked it on the desk, ducking away from the flying glass object.

"Don't fucking get smart on me! Now you broke the other one! You owe me money for both of those and the broom! Now go to your room."

"But, how?" she trembled, "I'm only nine! I can't get a job!" the girl whimpered as the women towered over her.

"Figure it out; you have ten seconds to get to your room before you'll owe me more."

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The girl swallowed, trying her best to ignore the salty taste in her mouth from her tears as she starred at the women before her.

"And you call yourself a fucking Christian. Until you start acting like one, you're not allowed to pray at prayer meetings or youth advents, or read you're bible allowed at church or say amen when Pastor tells the saved people to say amen. Understand?"

"But mom, I am –" the girl started but the women cut her off.

"I said fucking understand bitch! Until you start acting more like me, I won't consider you a Christian, and as your Christian mother I fucking won't let you lie about being saved!"

The girl kept her mouth shut as the women left her hallway room.

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"Please, please, please?" the older girl begged.

"No Amanda, I'm in the middle of something, I'll help you when I'm done."

"No now. Please, please, please." She asked again, grabbing her homework from the younger girl in front of her.

"No Amanda," she said, grabbing it back, "Now please get out. I'll help you when I'm done."

"You bitch!" she exclaimed, slapping the girl. "I don't know where you got to be such a fucking monster but I neither of your parents' raised you to be like this."

"Amanda, I'll help you when I'm done my homework, okay? I –" the girl got cut off again.

"No you bitch, stop being so selfish!"

She raised a hand to her cheek as she watched the door swing closed, the red mark and faint outline of a hand already forming on her face.

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"Please?" Amanda asked, pouting at the girl. "Just say one swear?"

"No," the girl answered, shaking her head.

"Please?"

"No," she answered again.

"Is it because you relate it to them yelling?" Amanda asked the girl.

"I don't like swearing," the girl answered.

"I know, but it is it because it reminds you of when –" she cut Amanda off.

"I'm not going to swear for you," and for the first time in a while, it was the girl that was leaving not somebody else leaving her.

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She watched from afar as her supposed best friend talked with Britney. What happened to you were never replaced, the just hadn't seen each other in while? The girl thought. I'm here now, clearly I haven't been replaced.

Turning around, she exited without a soul noticing because who would care if she left anyway? No one.

"Bye Katie!" a voice called out and a spur of hope flooded through her, but turning around she saw her youth director.

Smiling sadly she said goodbye, heading out without another word.

Goodnight Becca. She thought. Like she would ever say those words again.

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It was Saturday, and the girls all sat at the rink, waiting for their next ice.

The youngest girl's phone rang, and she looked at it somewhat shocked, answering nevertheless.

"Hello?" she asked.

"Hey," Becca's voice came floating through the phone. "What are you doing tonight?"

Hope filled her as she smiled, "Nothing, why?"

"Me and Britney are having a photo shoot and we were wondering if you'd take the pictures for us."

The girl's smile faded, "you mean, like be your photographer?"

"Yeah, exactly!" the girl on the other ended answered.

"Only the photographer?" she said slowly.

"Yup," the girl popped her P.

"I actually just remembered, I have a night practice this week, sorry. I'm going to be at the rink until 9."

"Oh well, I can find someone else, it's no problem, my mom just couldn't do it and I thought you were complaining about not hanging out with me anymore so I figured . . ."

"Well I'm sorry for not jumping at the chance of taking pictures of you and your best friend, next time I'll cancel all of my plans!" the girl shouted, dropping her phone into her bag with a huff, giving the girls a warning glace that said not to talk about it.

"So I hear Nicole's coming back," Macey told her.

"Oh really? I didn't know that." The girl answered.

"Oh I thought you would know. You two used to be with each other the time." Macey asked.

"Well I guess times changes things . . . I don't know." The girl spoke quietly.

"What happened between you two?"

"I don't know . . . she just kind of faded out of my life. And apparently didn't look back."

The girl nodded, but took the hint to move onto the next subject.

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She re-read the story; thinking about her life and how it fit this almost perfectly, the ending however was still unknown in her life.

She hadn't jumped off of any sky scrapers and didn't really plan on it. Because while there were something's that weren't great about her life, she was certainly grateful for all she had, and it wasn't anything worth taking her life for, not that she considered anything bad enough for that.

Soon her story could have a different ending, one she could decided on all on her own. She might only be a sophomore, and still had some time left at home, but she knew one day she'd be right where she wanted to be.

She just couldn't wait until that day finally came.

A/N: Okay . . .so I know this isn't Gallagher Girl related, but I'm starting this challenge.

I dare you to . . .

Whenever life is taking control for you and you can't take something about it anymore, write a story, do it under whatever fanfiction you want or website you want or just a personal story if you feel that's most comfortable. Changing all and any names except maybe your own (if you don't want to) write about whatever it is you can't take anymore and title it "Can't Take One More Day" It helps, I swear. Getting those feelings out there in some way, really does lift some weight of your shoulders.

Please note that I am not doing this to complain about my life in anyway. I'm very grateful for all that I have and I try my best to never take that for advantage, but everyone has struggles and sometimes, you just need to get them out there.

I'm sorry if I disappointed any one with this not being a fanfiction, but remember, I'm daring you to do the same. You can make it into a fanfiction if you want, really do whatever you want with it. Just get those feelings out there.

Thanks for reading, Katie.