My dad's kicking me out (for the second time)

So, for context, on January 9th, I was sitting in my room, and my dad came in yelling at me because I hadn't finished the dishes. I said right away that I'd do it, and he said it was too late for that now, and he started hitting me with one of those wooden crosses that you put out in the yard that says Jesus saves. He hit me with it until it broke, and the shrapnel hit and broke my guitar. I got super mad at him for all these years of taking abuse, doing nothing and saying nothing, and I hit him across the face and knocked him down. I ran because I didn't want to die, but it was dark, and it had just rained, and I didn't put my shoes on.

  So I came trudging back with my wet, soggy socks. I went to my room, and then my dad knocked on the door and said I need you outside. I looked out my window to see a sheriff's truck and a police cruiser. As we were going, he whispered in my ear, saying that he was going to kill me if I told them the truth, so I better make up a lie real quick. So I did what he said, then the police put me in handcuffs, put me in the car, and drove me to jail. I was released after 11 days.

  My parents wouldn't take me home, so I stayed there longer than I should have. I met this guy in his sixties while I was in jail, and we both coincidentally got released at the same time. He offered me a ride, and he dropped me off at a 7-Eleven near my old high school.

After a few months of being homeless, I met this guy who stayed near a dumpster at a car wash. He was pretty chill, so I thought. Anytime I'd ask for a cigarette, he'd give me one if he had any. Fast forward to late April; it had been a while since I'd last seen him. I was in front of a gas station that got converted into a vape store because it had an outlet I could plug my phone into. The guy pulls up in a black Nissan Altima and says, "Get in." He offered me a place to stay with his girlfriend at this apartment complex not too far away. Me being tired and hungry, I accepted. 

I would regret that decision almost immediately because he would lock the doors and force me to smoke meth with him. After a month, I was finally able to escape and call the police. One trip from EMS later, and I'm at the hospital with an IV in my arm. I was still 17 in May, so they had to call my dad before they could stick any needles in me. And since May 30th, I've been back at the house where this story started.

So that leads me to today, where I'm dreading July 30th because that's when I'll be homeless again.