regaining her composure she made a break for the door she couldn t bare to stare into his cold dead eyes any more with every step she took the room it turned a deeper shade of gray by the time she d dried her tears all the colour had faded away the day the mine closed was the day things started to change what little money he had left funded an alcoholic rage to the extent that he was barely the same man anymore tobacco papers broken glass and empty cans on the floor six months of booze and beating drove to react that way she d never hurt a fly before that cold wet november s day she hid under the stairs and waited till the time she thought best she took a knife and drove it through his back with all the strength she had left she sat and thought about the situation she was in she was a murderer and an orphan and her only next of kin was a grandfather who live so many miles away at a loss for things to do she began to pray father help me i couldn t stand it anymore i am 15 and alone and behind that wooden door lies the body of the person who has made my life a misery i need a plan i need a solution set me free then it came to her she thought i can hide the body underneath the shed where they won t find him no they won t find him so she hid his body underneath the shed they never found him they re not even looking she took the next train out of town and moved in with her granddad she never told him 1
['acoustic punk', 'folk punk', 'queercore']