Seeing the Light

Chapter 8

4 months later...

Iris' POV:

Rose. She was the most beautiful girl inside and out. She was like a savior to me. 4 months into our friendship, we were at the movie theater again. Yes, the same one we met at. It was our weekly thing - movie night date - and we'd randomly choose any movie that was playing.
After the movie had finished, we needed to head home, so I dropped Rose off and began the long walk to home.
Funnily enough, she did help me, just as she had offered. Since we met, life has been... more positive. At least, that's how I'm seeing it. Two years and then I can move out from my parents and live elsewhere. Less than a year until I can drive. One month until I can get my permit.
I happily skipped to my dusty apartment, smiling. At the door, I took a deep breath and was about to open it when I heard glass shattering and someone shrieking. My smile disappeared as I rushed inside. My heart pounded as I saw my dad throw his empty wine bottles and everything on our table on the ground. My mom was on her knees, weeping as she begged my dad to stop. She was going to get hurt if she kept doing that. No matter how much I hated my mom, she still loved me. I knew she loved me, but... she was crazy. Lost control. A psychopath that still loved her daughter.

I rushed to her side and forcefully grabbed her arm. She wouldn't budge, her tears running down her face. My chest heaved with effort, but my mom was too heavy. My dad was going to hit my mom or I with a glass shard sooner or later. Like bullets, glass shards flew by my head and arms which were failing to lift my mom. I was starting to panic... when I felt my hair be cut off. A glass shard had barely missed me and instead smoothly sliced a small piece of my hair. I stood there, silent and emotionless. Everything seemed to slow down. I watched the little dust balls fly everywhere as the glass shards glistened in the orange light and blinded me. My mom's blotchy face was filled with fear and sadness, her tears slowly running down her cheeks as my dad slowly threw bottles after another. I never knew we had this many bottles... My eyes slowly blinked and everything returned back to normal.

But now, I was furious. My hair.. could have been me. My neck. I felt anger rising, my neck warm and eyes sharp. It was like all the anger I've been holding in for 16 years was exploding.

I was exploding.

"THAT COULD HAVE BEEN ME!" I screamed while pointing at my fallen hair. "ARE YOU CRAZY?" My mom stopped crying and loosened her grip on dad's legs. Her eyes shook and I could see her trembling. "FOR 16 YEARS, I'VE BEEN WITH YOUR CRAP! I AM YOUR DAUGHTER, DAD! AND HOW COULD SOMEONE CALLED A PARENT CHOOSE DRUGS OVER THEIR OWN CHILD?" I took a deep breath. "HOW COULD YOU?"

I stomped and the floor shook, the dust rising and soaring in the air once again. "You chose to have me. You chose to be a parent." My fingers curled together making my nails dig into my palm, but I couldn't feel the pain. "You chose to be MY DAD!!" I screeched.

My mom got up and grabbed my arm. She tried to drag me away, but I glared at my dad and I wriggled my arm out. I stood there, a good 6 feet away and asked the one question I despised.

"Why don't you love me, dad?" I whispered, slightly crying. I probably looked scary with my dark circles darker than normal, my hair tangled and sticking out, and underneath my eyes slowly turning red from crying. "I was ready to forgive and help you." I continued, now sobbing. My voice cut off with hiccups and deep breaths. "I was ready to love you, dad." I wiped my tears with a single hand before glaring at him. "But now, I've lost my patience." I ranted. "You don't deserve to be called a dad, a parent, a husband, a man. Not a human either. You're a monster, inside and out. And you don't dare deserve my love anymore. I want to see you hurt. I want you to realize your mistakes. I never want to see you smile again. Never. I want you to suffer till you die."

There. I said it. He wou-

CRACK.

I watched the glass shatter into small pieces.

My dad had thrown something from the counter while screaming. The loud crack was the only thing I could hear. Muffled screams, muffled cries, muffled throwing. I looked down at my feet which were bleeding and I saw the crushed item. A family picture that was in a glass frame.

Crack... crack... Clink... crack... crack... clink...

I quickly grabbed it into my pocket and felt warm hands around my arm. My mom. Her face was red and she was dragging me out. I struggled to wedge myself out and scream one more time. "YOU'RE CRAZY, YOU MONSTER!" My dad stopped screaming and slowly walked towards me, his half cracked bottle raised. He was going to hit me. He was going to kill me. He was going to stab me. He walked closer and harshly swiped it at me. I screamed and instinctively covered my head with my arms. I felt sharp pain and saw that the glass bottle was stabbed my arm. My arm tore and blood flooded out and I screamed. My dad had finally hurt me, physically. This wasn't happening. This couldn't happen. There was no way a half-broken bottle was in my arm. I was not bleeding. This was all fake. It had to be.

My mom grabbed me again. Her strength was incredible as I couldn't resist. My dad was throwing everything everywhere, screaming, yelping, screeching. I had never seen him this crazy. I mean, he had just stabbed me, this was expected. My blood flooded out in glups and I stumbled out of the building with my mom dragging me on the way. She urged me in her beat down car that hadn't been touched in so many months. "You can't drive, you're high." I whimpered to her. She shushed me and I stayed quiet.

Everything was getting blurry and the pain in my arm increased. "Doctor. We're gonna go to the doctor. Stay still." I heard her say. My head spun and arm numbed. I was barely awake when-