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I hear arguing. It rattles in my ears. It's like daggers stabbing me. Another fight, figures. It's always the same every night, well most nights. Fighting, screaming, hurting. They were like two bull dogs. Their anger was perfuming the whole room, and not in a good way. 

I hide under the covers of my bed. It's become a refuge, although it's not safe anymore. I guess it wasn't safe from the beginning. I had to hide somewhere. I burry my head under the pillow. Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop. Please. 

I hate this.  I hate every time they fight. I hate everything about him. He hurts me. He hurts my mother, the only person I know of who likes me. He's a scourge, a plague. I hate him. I hate every moment with him. He's chocking me. He's chocking the house. 

He's a monster. I want him gone. He makes me sick. I grip my fists. Tears started to slide down my face. 

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