Jonathan Davis awoke that Saturday morning laying on his bed. Fear filled his body up and down. Every time the weekend came around, his heart would race and pound and he felt a contrapment of nerveousness. This is so because Saturday and Sunday are the two days of the week Jonathan must spend at home with...her. The one person who insists on making Jonathan's home life just as miserable as his school life. The one person who could indimidate Jonathan. The one person who hates his guts and everything he stands for, Sharon, his step mother.

Ever since his father remarried Jonathan's life has become more worse than ever. Jonathan often wondered why God did this to him. Why God would only put him on this Earth to suffer and why he had to live this life of hell and misery. That morning was going to be somewhat better, little did he know. His arms hurt and his legs were cramped from walking home so far from school yesterday since Sharon was to busy gossiping to her fellow lazy housewifes about whats going on in the pathetic small town of Bakersfield. His hair was tangled and it left a huge wet spot of grease on his pillow since he didnt wash it for a few weeks. Sharon always complained to Jon about his hygene habbits. That was just one of the MANY reasons why he hated her.

He rose from his bed finally, wearing only a grey t-shirt and a pair of ripped jeans. He slowly stepped up to his doorway and slowly slid his hand over the door knob and pushed the door open. Fortunetly for him the door didn't make any noise while opening as to not awake the monster, but unfortunetly for him, she was already up. He walked out of his room quietly tip toeing on the grey fuzzy carpet. He then realized he was screwed. He needed to get to the kitchen but to do that he had to first go through the living room, where IT dwelled. He decided to not even look at her, to just go through the living room really fast and hope to not get stuck in one of her insults or comments that cut Jon up like a knife.

He built up whatever courage he had within him and walked into the living room. There IT was. She was sprawled out on the couch, her bleech blonde hair up in curlers, her toe nails wet from just being painted, and the phone resting on her shoulder where she continued to talk to whoever would bother listening. Her black tights were ripped at the thighs and her wrinkled red tshirt covered her hideous body. Jonathan wondered why his father was with her, he could at least do a little better than her. He continued walking until he heard a click. "Uh oh", he thought. She just hung up the phone. Then she spoke up in that voice. The one voice that made Jon's heart race and his adrenaline pump.

"Are you just getting up?", she asked. He looked surprised as he turned around to face her, she actually talked with some respect for Jon in her voice. He slowly and quietly replied "Yes". Thats when her kind gentle voice faded.

"Are you fucking retarded? I told you last night that you had to help your father down at the music store and you were supposed to be up a half a god-damn hour ago. Now your father left and will have to work late because you didn't want to get up. You lazy son of a bitch!" Jonathan made 2 tight fists and clenched them. The nerveousness he once felt later before faded. He felt anger, hate, he wanted her to die.

But he promised his father he would try to be nice, so in promising, he replied softly and calmly "I forgot to wake up, I was tired from all the walking I did yesterday since you didnt pick me up from school."

>Her eyes widened and became blood shot with rage. "You listen here boy, if I dont feel like picking your sorry ass up from school one day then I can do it because Im an adult and your not. Its not my fault your pathetic faget ass doesnt have any friends who can take yo-"

"What did you call me?!?" Jonathan interupted. That one word triggered him off. It was what he was waiting for. One thing Jonathan couldnt stand was that one word, the one word that brings back all the pain and agony. The word he thought he would only have to deal with in school, was now just taken into his own home.

"I called you lazy," she said, "and how dare you interupt and adult while Im talking boy! I'll teach you some manners if its the last fucking thing I do!"

"Fuck you! Im fed up with all of this shit about how Im supposed to love you because your an adult! Well a real adult wouldnt make a kid like me feel like shit just because she cant pull her own fucking life together!" screamed Jonathan. Sharon became furious and got up from the couch. Jon was not prepared for what she did, for what she did crossed the line. She raised her hand high in the air and brought it down across Jonathan's pale skinny face, leaving him with a red mark that was swelling in pain.

"Now how do you like that Boy?!? I'll show you not to ever raise your voice to another adult as long as your in this house!" Then this feeling came to him. It was an overwhelming feeling. The feeling made Jonathan sick to his stomach. It made him sick of his life, sick of being called a faget, sick of not relating to anyone, but most importantly, sick of her.

"Hit me again", he exclaimed.

"What?!?" , she asked.

"Hit me again, do it as much as you want", he said. Sharon raised her hand again and again slapped him, this time on his other cheek, leaving it feeling the same as the other. This only outraged Jonathan more. "Come on Sharon, you could do better than that, hit me some more. Hit me as much as you want to! Make a fist this time and do it harder, come on you scared bitch! Again! Again!" he screamed.

"Your scaring me boy, stop acting this way or I'll tell your father!" she cried. "Tell him, do whatever you want to make my life more miserable, just because you have the power to! Come on Sharon! Hit me some more!" he cried. Sharon, afraid of her step son's actions, backed up with a worried look on her face.

"I uhhh, uhh, I have to take the curlers out of my hair.", she said with tears forming in her voice, and walked away into the bathroom closing the door behind her. Jonathan, left standing in the living room, felt the anger leaving his body. It was as if someone stuck a vacume into him and sucked out all of his anger. He walked into the kitchen and began fixing himself a bowl of cereal. He then sat down at the kitchen table and began eating. While thinking of what just happened, and how he stood up to his step mother, he couldn't help but smile to himself.