Trigger warning
I'll admit, I haven't been the holiest high school senior to live, but I'm not the most sinful either. "Zachary! are you even listening to me?!" the principal near screeched. "listen lady. most of us drink alcohol at least once in high school, sue me." I spat back, leaning back in the uncomfortable plastic chair.
"That's it, you should consider yourself out of this school. Take your bags and leave." She stood. No no no no. Father will kill me! I sat stunned as she stood and grabbed the hood of my sweatshirt. "And this is against dress code young man."
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"You what!?" My father yelled, as I explained. "That's it, you're going to America, you twit." he bashed me against in the head, successfully pushing me out of the way. I wasn't that large to begin with, but this was an inhuman amount of strength, brought about by anger.
"You'll catch the next flight there, Genine will take you to your new school. "What about a place to stay-" I began to interject. "It's a boarding school. So pack your bags accordingly. I don't want to hear that you embarrassed me by wearing those god forsaken sweatshirts." He spat in my direction as he left the living room.
I could feel my eye swelling up, as well as where else he beat me. "How could I go to America with these beastly bruises, you utter brute." I meant to say it quietly, but he heard, and in a boorish style unlike his facade, beat me absolutely bloody shitless.
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It had been a rough week of avoiding my father, and when I was caught, if course beat. I ached all over, and had a black eye that was very visible to TSA as I passed through the airport in the American side. I saw those going through security removing their shoes, and surrendering themselves to a much more thorough search than back in England. I was worried about how I would sneak American beer back through when I got expelled. I wasn't planning on staying long.
"Send him to New England School for Boys please. If he asks for any different location, deny him. He is not yet of age. " she then shoved me into the car with me obviously protesting, and then walked back into the airport. The driver glanced at me, turned on his music, and drove.
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