𝘿𝙚𝙩𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙫𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙘𝙝𝙞𝙡𝙙 𝙙𝙚𝙩𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙫𝙚 ☆

000

━━━━ Home, or new home?

The whole week, her father and herself had barely talked to each other. Other than the times she would be shouted at, or told to do something, that was basically their whole situation.

That was until today, that is.

Originally, the day continued as it was. She opened her notebook, and took notes of the lecuture from her tutor.

But there was this ominous feeling creeping up her. She didn't know what it was as she brushed it off.

Amidst her thoughts, she lately noticed her sensei calling her.

"Miss Hiyashi? Miss Hiyashi?" The teacher called out.

The girl returned from her trance as she answered present.

The lesson continued as per usual, until her father came home that is.

It was unusual for her father to come around 2pm, moreless looking beat up.

Her father suddenly came into her and slapped her for no good reason. Pushing the poor tutor away, the tutor immediately left the house- scared.

"You damn brat!" He groaned, holding a beer bottle in his left hand. He glugged it down as he wiped his chin.

"It's all cause' of you!" He angrily spoke out, accusing her.

The girl was too stunned to speak as she held her cheek. "W.. What..?"

"Like I told you! It's yar faolt!" He spoke in a drunk voice, barely sober.

This time, she was hit for no good reason. And she wasn't even aware of why, and it wasn't anything new. But... Why was her father, who quited drinking a long time ago, suddenly start drinking again?

In fear, she flinched as numerous scenarios went into her head. Her father noticed this and angrily spoke, "Whaat are youu dooing?!"

He held the bare beer bottle in his hand, and raised it. His daughter didn't notice this, her state in a trance.

And in an instant,

He threw the bottle at her.

He hit her with the beer bottle.

The girl woke from her trance and was greeted with her right eye bleeding, green glass shards everywhere, and most importantly- the blood that surrounded her.

"Aah..!" She shrieked, frightened. Her eyes glance frantically from her blood and the glass shards, to her father's narrowed eyes.

"Deal with it, brat!" He spoke in a gruff voice as he walked away, throwing the remaining piece of the bottle to her room's floor.

"O-opo..." She muttered, her voice almost a whisper.

Tears fell out from her eyes as the bleeding eye hurts more and more. She placed her hand on the bleeding eye, covering it.

She immediately bolted out of the room and into the nearby clinic.

The clinic was a 30 minute walk, a