[ WP ] Eight Writing Prompts !

Dominique had a vivid imagination. I sat at the bus stop awaiting the Coffee County school bus to pull up so I could go to school that day. I was 15, no idea what I wanted to do with my life. How could I? My mother worked two jobs, my brothers had to work at the lumber yard to provide for himself and his family, and my father decided when I was 2 months old that he would go to the store for diapers. That was 15 years ago. I hated him for what he had done to my family, specifically to my mom. She was such a good women and he just left her with a 6 year old kid and a small child. 
 
 To keep myself preoccupied and because I had no friends to talk and sit with at the bus stop like all of the other children awaiting the bus, I would remember the day I found some of my dad's old things. They were mainly old clothes and what not. One day however, I found a photo of him when he was around my age. He looked nothing like me, almost as if he was n't my father. My mom told me that I had the same ears as him, almost to reassure me that he was and always will be my father. On that day I vowed to hate him, not only hate him, but wish his death. 
 
 I found that photo today. My mom wanted me to stay home from school because she knew something was wrong with me when I did n't eat or talk before she left. I knew if I stayed home that he had won. I could n't allow to happen. I reassured her I was fine, that nothing was wrong with me. I left for the bus stop. 
 
 Anger had taken over me. I was poor, overweight, and without guidance from a father that looked nothing like me. My eyes began tearing up as a few of the football players began walking up after they walked down from the West Hills residential area. A place my mother dreamed of living, a place I even dreamed of living. I shot a glance towards one of them, hoping I could possibly get a conversation with some of the coolest kids in school, maybe they could even comfort me in a time I needed someone. That was not the case. 
 
 `` What are you looking at fattie?'' The one I glanced at screamed. The other that was with him seemed not want to engage in the altercation, because he just stood there. Kyle was the boys name that screamed at me and he was walking towards me. `` Look everyone, chubs here is crying, like a fat baby!'' he yelled to the other kids. I was stood up, hoping to be able to run back home before I was beat like all of the other times however, when I stood from the bench, I felt someone jump onto my back, I realized Kyle had jumped onto my back, I rolled to try and get up but he began to hit me. My stomach, chest, and face were being pummeled. I tried to pull him away, but I could n't move him. I began to cry, I wanted my dad to be there to stop them, to protect me. `` Dad!'' I began to scream. 
 
 `` Dominique?'' Mr. Larson asked. I awoke from my motionless state and realized I was back in the real world. I realized everyone was staring at me. I must have been daydreaming for around 30 minutes. `` You know Dominique, if you applied just a little bit of energy into your studies as you do daydreaming, you would be an A+ student. Allison, can you please explain to Dominique how to do the problem on the board?'' Mr. Larson turned away from Dominique. Dominique stared around the class as everyone stared at Allison as she stood at the board working the math problem. Dominique looked down to see if he had any notes on the lesson they were on. When he noticed that he must have been drawing while he was daydreaming. The drawing was a kid sitting on the bench with a caption that read `` I miss my dad.'' Dominique sat back and chuckled at himself, and wrote on the top of the page, `` I have a vivid imagination.''
