Dying to live another day

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Kara and her stepfather never got along. Every afternoon he would go out and wouldn’t return for hours. He demanded Kara to clean the house and cook, and if it wasn’t done he threatened her severely. Later it evolved in emotional abuse but now physical abuse was the only answer.
Kara hid her evidence as signs of crime. She blamed herself for the pain she put herself through. No matter how hard she tried to escape his life taking hands, it never work. Most of the time she was hit because he always seemed to find something wrong around the house, but others was because of him being high or drunk. No one could help her. Her mom was in rehab and her real dad was no where to be found. A family? What family. No one ever visited or called her. She felt she wasn't ment to be alive.
“I hate you.” Kara yelled at her step-father one night after he called her trash and she would never be could for anything.
“Shut up.” He yelled back. His rough hard hand pierced her face. She fell to the floor and covered her self to escape coming injures.
“Get up and get out of my sight. Before you really make me mad.” Kara stayed there afraid to move. She shivered with fear and hurt.
“Since you won’t move, I’ll make you.” He grabbed the inches of her hair and began dragging her on the carpet. Kara cried out in distress. She grabbed her hair trying to stop the pain. She kicked her legs trying to break free. Kara back was on fire as bruises and scraps formed.
“Get in here and shut up.” He yelled he throwing her onto her bed. Angrily he walked out and slammed the door shut behind him. She was tired of being tormented. Tonight she was going to plan her revenge.
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The clock finally struck 12am. Her backed ached from the blue and red sores that covered her back. Quietly she left her room. She crept down the hall and to the living room. There he was, lying out on the couch. Tip toeing she crept to the front door in the kitchen. She hesitated before grabbing the doorknob but before she could twist it she was grabbed and her mouth was covered.
   “You trying to run? Trying to leave me? Huh!” He yelled. Pressure ached at her neck. Reacting quickly she lifted her leg and kicked him. He yelled out in pain and she was freed. She gasps for air before stumbling to the counter. He grabbed her leg and she collapsed to the floor. “You little….” Unable to finish his sentence he flipped her on her back and gave her a blow to her mouth. She tasted blood in her mouth as she reached for the floor lamp, and brought it down on his head. In a matter of seconds he fell on top of her conscious. Hyperventilating, she scrambled to her feet and rushed over to the counter.     She grabbed a knife and went back over to her step-dad. She glanced at him with anger in her eyes. No mercy ran through her body. She wanted him to suffer. She raised the knife over her head. She brought the knife down with great force and plunged it into her body. Deep inside she wanted to get away. Inside she was dying to live another day.

Reviews

[El Suplexo]

This story isn't bad, and the ending is indeed interesting, the problem is you have waaaaaay too much exposition. One of the golden rules for writing, one that will always improve the quality of just about every piece is 'show, don't tell'. Which basically means you could tell us how these characters interact, tell us that they feel this way about something, but it's a lot more powerful when we 'see' them interacting in a certain way, when we 'see' them going through those emotions. By doing this, you can take a piece that's just a bunch of words on a page, and turn it into something that when people read it, they are really feeling it, really seeing it. The other thing I would say is try to watch the actual way you write it. Right now, it just seems like 3 or 4 big paragraphs. Everything kinnda runs together, and that messes with the flow of the story, killing the tension. Space it out, take your time with it. Let everything build up to that ending, and it should hit with a BIG emotional force.

[Chandra]

wow, i wasn't expecting the ending like that. it reminds me of one of my favorite short stories, perfect day for a bananafish by j.d. salinger. well done.