"YOU FUCKING BITCH! HOW COULD YOU?! YOU WERE A FUCKING ACCIDENT YOU KNOW THAT?!" Markos dad yelled at his son.
"I-I-I'm s-s-s-sorry I d-didn't m-mean to!" Marko replied sobbing at his fathers feet as he hit him acrossed the face again.
"YOU MOTHER FUCKER! I DIDN'T TELL YOU THAT YOU COULD TALK DID I?" Markos dad yelled at his 17 year-old son. Marko just shook his head and and looked down.
"GET IN YOUR ROOM!" His dad yelled at him as he hit him in the stomache. Marko coughed out blood and ran into his tiny room. The last thing he heard was his dad locking the bolt lock behind him. He hated being yelled at, he hated only eating a half a piece of bread for dinner while his dad made him cook a full meal just for himself, he hated that his dad hit him, he hated his dad being a drunk, he hated his dad making him puke in the bathroom everysingle day if he went over his weight limit (89 LBS), he was 78 LBS right now, he has stomache pains because of that and he is sensitive, but most of all he hated being locked in his room.
If he was locked in his room, he knew his dad will leave him in there for 3-4 weeks with nothing to eat or drink, he forgets about him. he turns the air conditioner to freezing in his room every night and he only had a little thin blanket to cover up with on the floor. He wished that his mom was still there. Marko wasn't the type of teenage that goes to parties, has friends, or gets any girl he wants. He was the type of guy that was silent, unoticed, got picked on because he didn't like girls, had a drunk for a father and a runaway mother, and he didn't have any friends.
Marko looked away from the little crack from the boarded up window that his dad covered up, there was only a little crack for him to look out of, he left the little window and covered up with his little small blanket and fell asleep.