Dear journal,
Daddy took me out to dinner tonight. He had a lot of whiskey and started asking me questions any normal parent would ask their kid. Not him.
"How's school going?" He asked me politely.
"Good." Lies. School was awful. I was failing almost all my classes, the only one I was passing was algebra. And that's only because my friend let me copy her. On everything.
"Still got straight A's?"
"Of course." More lies.
"Is there a lucky guy yet?"
I nearly choked on my soda when he said that. No guy in the school would even consider talking me! Let alone dating. Ha! He's funny.
"No dad no guys." He laughed. He actually laughed. I haven't heard him laugh in years! Not in a friendly way like just now.
"That's surprising, you're a slut." Oh. Not friendly then. Okay. He's drunk again. I looked down at my hands and slowly stood up saying, "I think it's time to go now dad. I can drive"
He laughed again, "You little shit! Sit back down I'm not done with my drink." I started to walk away, ready to run if he tried to hurt me.
"YOU LITTLE FUCKING BITCH SIT BACK DOWN" He threw his drink at me, soaking me in whiskey and breaking the glass on the ground, a waitress rushed over.
"Is there a problem here sir?" The pretty blonde looked at my father.
"No ma'am," he stated "just waiting for my daughter to cooperate." She looked at me and I smiled politely. She nodded then walked away to find a broom I'm assuming. I slowly sat back down hoping tonight wouldn't be a total disaster but of course it still was. When I finally dragged him out of the resturaunt, he insisted driving home and nearly killed me. When we got home I tried to get into my room but not before he screamed at me to keep my legs closed tonight. I couldn't take it anymore, I grabbed a knife and cut where there wasn't already scars on my thighs.
