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A Short Story : A Story?

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The warm garlic bread scraped and clawed in my throat, begging not to be thrown into the dark dungeon, known as my stomach. Still, I held my nose and swallowed. I tore piece after piece of the garlic bread and plopped them into my mouth, begging myself to swallow. They’re still watching, I thought as I grabbed the last piece of garlic bread. My stomach growled telling me it wouldn’t take another piece of that forsaken bread. I tried to swallow the bread that was climbing up my throat, but it was no use. At the last possible minute, the bell rang indicating lunch over. Before the bell could clang again, I was already up and running toward the bathroom. 1…...2……...3! I barfed in the bathroom sink, seconds away from barfing on the ground. “Well, well, well. It looks like someone couldn’t handle some garlic bread.” Genevieve smirked when I turned around while whipping the barf off the sides of my cheek. “I think I just ate too much,” I murmured. “Really?” Genevieve asked. I nodded in response. “Oh, I forgot to ask, how’s your dad?” Genevieve asked. “Gege, don’t you remember, her dad’s in the psychopathic home.” Elizabeth, Genevieve's Bff, reminded her “Why is he there? Could you remind me, Zoey?” Genevieve asked aiming the question at me. I bit my lip, holding back the chubby tears trying to roll down my cheeks. “Nevermind, I remember. Wasn’t he pointing a knife at you and saying, ‘This child is a vampire, a demon, if someone doesn’t take her away, I’ll kill her

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