"Wake up, you piece of ! I don't even know why I'm still keeping you here!", my so called "father" yelled.   " I don't know either.." I groggily murmured to myself. I was already awake. I couldn't sleep anymore and if I did, it wouldn't be much anyway. My "father" abuses me every way possible, with words and objects. He started abusing me when I was 12, 4 years ago.    My mother have died from a drunk driver. She was crossing a road with her hands full of groceries, and she got hit, there wasn't even time for the ambulance to get at the accident. She already died at the scene. I didn't even say my last words to her.  My father blames me ,of course, because I didn't stop her from getting groceries. Silly, right? I know that it wasn't my fault anyway. I looked exactly like my mother, with my dark, black hair, brown, chocolate eyes, and my smile, that is rarely seen now.   Getting off my bed, I brushed my teeth and changed into a black long-sleeved shirt ,a worn out grey hoodie, and dark blue washed out jeans. I looked at myself at the mirror. My gleamy brown eyes were no longer there and were replaced by sadness. My once shiny hair is now a dull hair nest.    Not looking at the mirror anymore, for being disgusted with my appearance I grabbed my hair brush and tried to comb all the knots in my hair. Jogging out my room, I quickly ran into the kitchen to make breakfast for "father". He was dressed in a nicely black suit which was a surprise ,becau