Sad, scared, and abused.

Chapter 2

Nobody was at home when Alice returned from school, which was strange because her father always makes her go out and do the shopping or chores. Alice saw this as an opportunity to finally get some rest, and she ran upstairs to her room. Inhaling the familiar, comforting pine scent in her room, and collapsed onto her bed and took out her iPod. Her room had always been her safe place. The walls of her room were a beautiful brown wood which reminded her of a cabin. When she was younger she would imagine that she was deeply lost in the woods, and this cabin was her only chance at staying alive. This got her through most of her parents arguments.
Just as Alice was about to pas out she heard the front door slam shut, shaking the old house a bit. Her father came crashing up the stairs, and she could hear him yelling her name.
"Alice!" His loud voices echoed throughout the empty halls, and came rushing into her room, causing her to burrow herself into her pillows and pray to god he doesn't come in her room and hurt her.
He came crashing into her room, and Alice jolted up to face him.
"What?" She replied timidly. Her fear of him never lessened, no matter how tough she told herself she was.
"What are you doing?" He growled, his fists hanging loosely at his large sides.
"Nothing." She responded dryly, still trying to fully wake herself up from almost falling asleep.
"Then why the fuck are you sleeping?" He screamed.
"I.."
"No excuses." He interrupted, "Now get up."
She slowly stood up, and faced him. His fists were now clenched, and he was standing firm in his spot.
"Now be a good daughter for once, and go get me some beer. We're out."
Her heart was pounding as she nodded, and did her best to walk past him and down the stairs wobbly knees.

The walk to the liquor store was long, and uneventful, but as soon as she approached it her heart started beating faster and a knot in her stomach grew. She would never be able to get away with this. Alice walked inside the automatic doors with her head held high, trying not to show them she was nervous. She wandered the halls filled with liquor, occasionally seeing an office supply for sale or candy. Her throat was dry, and every time she tried to swallow she winced in pain.
Finally seeing her fathers alcohol of choice, she hurriedly grabbed it off of the shelf and proceeded to walk over to the check out counter. Alice set it down lightly, trying not to shake and greeted the clerk.
"ID, please?" The tall woman asked, stretching out her bony fingers. Her nails were pointy and coated in red nail polish. She could tear someone apart with nails like that.
Alice patted her pockets down, pretending to look for an ID that she obviously didn't have.
"I'm sorry, it's not on me." Alice looked up at the clerk, crossing her fingers behind her back wishing for luck.
"You have to be twenty one or over to purchase alcohol."
"I am, ma'am." She replied, trying to stand up as straight as she could.
"You'd be surprised at how many times a day I hear that." She rolled her eyes at me. "I can't sell this to you."
The clerk, who's name was Michelle, reached for the bottle on the counter but Alice grabbed it first.
"I'll go put it back." She said.
And then she ran.
She ran like how she had always imagined herself running away from her father. She ran like how she use to imagine she would run through the forest of danger, just to get to safety.
She tore out of the doors, and kept running. Alice could hear the alarms in the background, which signaled that the cops would be there in no time.
The anxiety she had felt inside the store had grown to be a thousand times worse, and it was beginning to be hard to run.
Alice's mind was racing with all the possibilities of what could happen to her. But she fought against the pit in her stomach and kept running. She was almost home.
She dipped into an alley and ran through someone's yard to get onto the next block, which was a shortcut to her house she has learned as a child.
She fell onto her porch, gasping for air and still clutching the bottle in her shaking arms.
Her father appeared in front of her, reeking like alcohol and piss. He kicked Alice in the side with his nasty torn up boots, and she immediately got up. Alice handed him the bottle, and he snatched it out of her hand without hesitation. He smiled his usual nasty grin, showing off his yellowed teeth and chapped lips. He opened the bottle and took a drink, almost as if he was taunting her. Seeing if the drink was good enough, or if he should kick her ass. Which was exactly what was going through his mind.
"Took you long enough" He finally said, turning around and going back into the house.
Alice sat out there for a while, catching her breath and telling herself to just forget this day.