Dragon Ball Bf scenarios

Please read

Okay guys normally I wouldn't post ANYTHING like this but I feel like I need some feedback. I'm writing a story for my English class and it's about a major choice that we made in our life. I'm writing about the time I decided to cut all ties with my father. He is an abusive narcissist. I wrote about one night. The night he had said something to me that I will never forget. Anyway please comment what you think about it. Normal scenarios will be posted soon.

Thank you for your help

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THIS IS A TRUE STORY

"Cutting contact with toxic people will change your life. At first it feels miserable. Like you're going cold turkey from an addiction. But as time goes on, you come to discover that each passing day brings new unexpected blessings. You begin to develop self-respect, boundaries, and true friendships. Instead of running around absorbing & forgiving everything, you spend time with people who do not behave in a way that requires constant explaining to begin with. This Freedom allows your spirit to thrive. Someday you will look back and wonder how you even tolerated such toxic people. Your new self becomes protective of your old self, and that's a great feeling to have."

All of my life I have been told that I should have unconditional love from my father. I have learned that this is not the case. For many years I have dealt with his Narcissistic Abuse and didn't even notice it. I didn't even know what narcissism was until last summer. When everything went to hell,(excuse my language). I remember one night specifically and it's the night I cut ties with my father. The night that still gives me nightmares to this day.

It was late at night. My mother was playing with my neighbors son on the couch. The child was cooing happily and squealed as my mother tickled his belly. Sarah, my neighbor, sat on the edge of the chair beside me. She laughed at her child's expressions making me laugh too. I felt happy and content in the small house. The chair I sat in was right across from the door, my legs were pulled up against my chest. I smiled as the giggles of everyone filled the living room. Everything was fine until several loud bangs came from right outside the door.

Next thing I know my mother had given the child back to his mother and walked to the door. I grew concerned and tilted my head, wondering who could possibly be at our house at this time of night. When the door was opened, panic quickly took over and my eyes widened. There stood a man, hair ruffled messily, it shined because of the grease in it. His face was untidy and was covered in stubble. The smell of booze and cigarette smoke wafted into the living room. It gave my flashbacks to a time when I stayed in my room all day, when there was no interactions between family members, and when my depression started. My anxiety slowly rose like vines crawling up a fence with every passing second. He wore an old white wife beater that was stained with substances that were undefinable. His jeans were ripped and torn showing the rough, hairy legs. This man was a man every daughter should love and care for, but I despised every second I was around him. There in the doorway stood my father.

Then I noticed my mother, wide eyed and clearly nervous, place an open hand behind her back. A simple sign that most people wouldn't bother noticing. I understood it as a sign to stay calm and not to worry. My mother walked outside, shutting the door behind her. I tried to keep myself calm but at the same time, I was filled with so many emotions. Anger, Fear, Anxiety, and Depression were a few of them but anger was my main emotion. I turned to Sarah and started talking to her. She was obviously trying to keep me calm, asking me questions about why I hated him.

"I simply want him to go 6 feet under." I said nonchalantly, staring at my hands. I was pinching and scratching them, something I did when I was nervous. She was clearly unhappy with my answer as she went on to explain that I shouldn't feel that way about him. He was still my father.