Shorts stories & Creepypastas

My father

(This is actually a real story of my own. The only change is the punch -he oppened his hand in a slap at the last moment in reality)

I was still a child when this story happened. My parents were getting a divorce, but my father had always been violent. Since he didn't look for an apartment himself and was very demanding, he was still living with us during the divorce.

One evening, I had the scare of my life. My mother had put us to bed early, my sisters and me. I always had trouble sleeping because I could hear my father shouting insults at my mother for hours on end. He didn't understand why she wanted to leave him. It was obvious, but men like him don't recognize their mistakes. They think they're perfect. That night, it must have been almost 10pm and I was just starting to doze off when a new scream woke me up. This time, it was my mother. My sisters and I got up and ran to find my mother in tears, her eye starting to turn blue. We immediately rushed to her to surround her and protect her. I was 9 years old, but I understood. I understood that he was hurting her. That he had always hurt us. I was afraid of him, but I refused to leave my mother at his mercy.

We took my mother to her room, while my older sister prevented my father from coming up. He kept repeating that she was hysterical and crazy. Absolutely refusing to recognize that he was the problem... My mother had trouble calming down, but she told us to get dressed quickly. When my father saw us coming down, dressed to go out, he started insulting her again, asking her where she was taking us. As if she had to tell him. Afraid that he might decide to hit one of us, she just told him: 

"I'm taking them to McDonald's to take their minds off things! They were scared! Leave us!" 

She put on her coat and drove us to the car before starting it. She didn't go in the direction of the fast food restaurant at all. She drove around the city, parking in a lot that I didn't even know. From there, she guided us, on foot, to the city center. To the police station.

It was too much. She had seen the hatred in his eyes. He could have beaten her to death if we hadn't arrived. Just as we reached the door of the police station, we saw my father. He was coming out of the park. He had been looking for us. Unfortunately, he had also seen us. We rushed inside, and, seeing our panic, a policewoman took us to an office. As she closed the door, we could hear my father entering the building. 

"Where is that bitch?! Where is she?! She has no right to do this, that slut! She has no right, do you hear me?!" 

He shouted like that for almost an entire hour. I was in tears, in my mother's arms. My older sister was trembling with fear. My other sister was the only one who could speak, and she told the officer who stayed with us everything that had happened. After a while, he finally left. The police station suddenly became silent. Another policewoman stuck her head in the door.

Policewoman: Did he drink?

Mom, crying: No... he's always been like that.

Policewoman: Okay. We told him to leave. The house is yours, so it's up to him to leave. Stay here until he gathers his things. Are you going home afterward?

Mom: I'm going to take my daughters to a restaurant.

My sister absolutely wanted to get her phone, which she hadn't taken in the panic, so we had to wait a bit. The police officers were all very reassuring. They took my mother's statement and assured us we could call if he came back. We waited another hour before leaving. The house was silent. Everything was turned off. My father's car was no longer there. 

Relieved, my mother asked my sister to hurry and get her phone, while we waited in the car. She took the keys and ran to the house, but when she opened the door, she screamed. My father had hide his car away and waited in the corridor, plunged in the dark. My mother, panicked, opened the car door to get out, before seeing my father coming in fury towards her. She just had time to pull her leg in before he slammed the door on it. She then had the reflex to lock the doors, although worried about my sister. He started shouting again and insulting her. He pulled on the handles and hit the car. This lasted for about ten minutes, before sirens interrupted my father. Two police cars and a van arrived in front of our house. My sister had run to her room and called the police with her phone that she had come to get. My father still blamed my mother.

Dad: You called the cops! Bitch, you called the cops!

Mom: How do you expect me to call them when you're right here yelling at me?

Dad: I know it's you!!

The police officers almost jumped out of their vehicles, hands on their batons. One of them pinned my father against the car and handcuffed him.

Policewoman: We told you to leave, sir!

My father, much less sure of himself: Yeah, but I can't find my underwear, actually...

The police officers stayed while he finally packed a suitcase. They waited for him to get into his car, which he had hidden further away, and disappear around the corner, before finally assuring my mother that they would patrol all night. My mother thanked them, and we left the neighborhood to finally go to the promised restaurant. However, when we arrived in the neighboring street, my father's car, still hidden further away, joined us on the road to follow us. However, what he had not anticipated was that the police van was also following.

When we arrived at the restaurant, my father finally continued straight ahead, onto the main road, and left the city, while the police made three rounds around the McDonald's, causing all the customers to wonder. Once we got back home, we were afraid that he would still be waiting for us, but as promised, the police came to guard us all night.