Noah

December 5th 2006

I was sat up in my room, flicking through one of my books. I hadn't watched TV in a year and a half, and if it was possible to die of boredom, I would have. I was laying back on my bed flicking through my colouring book when I heard my dad shouting.

"ROBYN!" he screamed up at me. "ROBYN GET YOUR FUCKING ARSE DOWN HERE RIGHT NOW!"

I knew that that most likely meant he was going to have a pop at me. Ever since he'd gotten me Mars a few years ago, he'd calmed down a bit. Just a slap or a kick here and there if I was being irritating. I figured he'd have a go at me, probably kick me then send me to my room. I didn't know why, but I knew it was better to go and take it now rather than ignore him.

So I went downstairs and walked into the living room, to see him stood by the TV, his face red with anger.

"What the fuck is this?" he snapped, pointing at the floor.

And, oh shit.

Mars had crapped on the carpet in the living room.

He hadn't done that in a year or so, I'd managed to house train him. And so, my dad was furious.

"Oh," I said. "Sorry, Dad." I didn't know what else to say.

"Call the dog down." he said, his voice dangerously quiet. I didn't want to, but I knew he was angry and drunk enough to beat me if I didn't.

"MARS!" I called with a shaking voice. The four year old Collie came bounding down the stairs and lolloping into the living room, panting excitedly.

"Clean up the shit, Robyn." dad said, then walked out.

Shaking, I used a piece of old news paper to scoop up the dog shit and throw it in the bin. Mars, realising he'd done something wrong, nuzzled my leg and gave an apologetic whine. I forgave him of course. He was my only friend. And it was only a bit of shit, it wasn't his fault.

My dad came back into the living room with a big kitchen knife.

I grabbed Mars round the neck and pulled him closer to me. "Dad please don't I promise he won't do it again." I said, panicked.

"Oh, don't worry, I'm not going to kill the dog." he turned the knife round and held it out, handle first, to me. "You are."

"No, Dad please." I gasped, feeling my eyes tear up.

"If you don't do it, I will," he said with a small smile. "And I will make that dog feel it."

"Please Dad it's not his fault. He won't do it again. Please." I was crying now. I hadn't cried in ages, because my dad always called me a wuss when I cried, but I couldn't stand the prospect of losing my only friend.

"This is proof, Robyn." he sneered. "Proof that I've become too soft with you. You're talking back to me, you're arguing with me. You let the dog shit wherever it likes. I've had enough of it. The dog gets what it deserves, and that will hopefully discipline you too."

My eyes were swimming as I looked down at my dog, then up at my dad with anger for the first time. "I hate you!" I shouted. It was something I'd picked up on TV a while before. "You're a bastard and I hate you!" I screamed at him. He looked furious.

He grabbed me by the scruff of my t shirt and threw me across the room, hefting the knife in his right hand.

"How dare you?" he said in a poisonous whisper, his voice deadly quiet. "How dare you say that to me, you UNGRATEFUL LITTLE BITCH?" he was so angry now, and I realised that I'd made a mistake. He pointed to me with the knife. "I've been too fucking soft with you! That's what it is."

"Dad, no please, I'm sorry." I said, fear and dread filling me now to replace the anger.

"I give you a home, I feed you, I buy you clothes and you think you have the right to speak to me like that?" he roared, ignoring me completely. "I am your father, you have no right!" he shouted, and with one swift flick of the knife cut my arm.

I cried out in pain, trying to scramble away from him. I kicked at the ground pushing myself backwards until I got to the wall. I could feel my heart racing, and my arm hurt badly. Tears were streaming down my face as I tried to reason with him again, but he wasn't having it.

"Please, Dad. I didn't mean it, I'm sorry."

"It's all that fucking TV you watch, isn't it? I knew I shouldn't let you watch it! I said that, didn't I? I said it'd change you." he yelled furiously. He buried the knife in the wall and went over to the TV, easily plucking it up off the stand and yanking out the wires. "Well I'm not having you fucking talking to me like that again!"

He threw the TV hard, and it smashed against the wall. It was an old TV with a VCR player and everything. Against the wall? It didn't stand a chance.

It shattered hard into hundreds of tiny shards, the screen falling to pieces, the inner workings tearing up to never be used again. I screamed, crawling out of the way of the sharp pieces. My arm hurt badly, but I was determined to get out of there. If I could just get up to my room...

I was almost at the door, when my dad grabbed me round the waist and easily lifted me into the air. He threw me at the wall, and I landed hard on my bad arm, hitting my head against the wall. He took the knife back out of the wall, leering over me with it. Then, he crouched down and pressed it to my throat.

"I never wanted a daughter anyway." he said.

I  distinctly felt the knife at my throat, cold and sharp, restricting my breathing and spreading an icy dread through my body. I wanted to say something, to beg him to stop, but the biting edge of the knife kept me at bay. I was frozen with fear as every breath I took caused the cold metal to chafe against my throat.

Tears spilled down my face as I waited for him to cut open my throat.

Then, from nowhere, there was a harsh snarl, and Mars leaped at Dad, sinking his sharp teeth into his leg. He'd obviously sensed that I was in danger, and had attacked my dad in order to save me...

It worked a little too well.

Dad completely forgot about me, turning in a blur as the sharp teeth ripped into his flesh. He screamed in pain and anger, and the next thing I knew Mars half-staggered away, whimpering.

I felt a thin dribble of blood on my neck where my dad had sliced me lightly when he turned, but it wasn't serious. My arm was hurting badly though, and my sleeve was covered in blood. My head was swimming, because I'd hit my head against the wall hard enough to crack my skull.

My dad stepped back, his right hand and the knife covered in blood. He wiped his nose, looking somewhat pleased with himself.

"Well, the mutt got what it deserved." he said triumphantly.

"No..." I muttered, looking over at Mars's body. The dog was breathing heavily, and the fur on his side was matted with blood.

"I told you, Robin." he said. "I've had enough of your shit. And the dog's. You are going to learn to respect me. The hard way or the easy way."

Mars whimpered weakly, giving me big sad eyes.

"Oh, shut the fuck up, will you?" my dad snapped, before getting down on one knee and forcing the knife into the dog's skull. Mars let out a final squeal, then fell silent and still completely.

My dad got up, and came over to me, brandishing the bloody knife. He crouched in front of me, and I was too weak to move out the way.

"I need to teach you some respect, Robin, the same way my father did me. Trust me. It's good for you. You'll understand some day. You'll be grateful one day."

It was just then that I passed out, because my head was pounding really bad and my arm was bleeding massively.