Dancing in the Rain

Chapter I

It wasn't unusual for Stacey Russell's father to be in such a grumpy mood, for he was a rather grumpy man himself. It was rare for him to be in even a slightly good mood. And if he were to be in a good mood, he was almost always drunk out of his mind. People often questioned if maybe Stacey brought him such unhappiness. However, that wasn't exactly the case.

Her father, Marshall, was not always like this. He was once a man who was happily married. But everything seemed to have gone downhill after Stacey turned twelve. He and her mother began from small, meaningless arguments to intense, heated fights. After Stacey turned fifteen, they had divorced.

She had chosen to live with her father, her innocent mind making her think that he understood her more. Unfortunately, she was wrong.

Stacey, now sixteen years of age, always witnessed her unhappy father drinking until his body couldn't tolerate and consume anymore alcohol. And God, she was getting sick of it.

"You'll kill yourself if you keep drinking like that!" she yelled one afternoon in June.

"I know," Marshall grunted, shifting in his seat on the couch uncomfortably.

"If you know that, then stop," Stacey said firmly. "Please. It hurts to see you like this."

"What d'you want from me, Stace?" he said miserably. "Don't worry about me. Just worry about yourself and your own happiness."

"I can't be happy if you keep doing this to yourself," she said softly. "I can't live with someone who keeps hurting themselves the way you are. It... it's too much."

"What're you saying?"

"I'm saying stop drinking the way you are right now. You need to go back out there and get a girlfriend. Mom's already remarried."

Marshall sighed deeply, running a hand down his face in exhaustion. "Ok... You're right. I'll stop."

"Don't just say that," Stacey said with pleading eyes. "Promise me."

"Alright," he said quietly. "Ok. I promise."

But unfortunately, in his mind, promises were meant to be broken.

One night, a week after the incident, Stacey came home after taking a short jog around the neighbourhood, only to find all the lights turned off. She flicked them back on and peered around her home.

"Dad?" she called, kicking her shoes off. "You home?"

An inaudible groan emitted from the living room. Concerned, Stacey stalked towards the door and pushed it open. Inside, she was greeted by a terrible sight.

Several empty bottles of whiskey and Jack Daniels littered the living room floor, surrounding the coffee table and the couch. And on the couch was an extremely tipsy Marshall. He reeked so heavily of alcohol. It was nauseating.

"Who's at the door?" he mumbled, his words slurring terribly.

"Unbelievable!" Stacey gasped, making him jump in surprise. "You are unbelievable!"

"Mmm... What?" he squinted his small eyes at her, licking his dry lips and cringing.

"You promised!" she cried, tears swimming in her hazel eyes. "You promised me you'd stop drinking!"

"Sorry... I'm... Sorry..." he said hoarsely.

Stacey shook her head as the tears began to stream down her cheeks. "Sorry isn't enough... I can't believe you couldn't do this one thing for me."

"I'll do... better!" Marshall shrieked, followed by an obnoxiously loud hiccough.

She winced. "Stop it," she whispered. "Stop... I'm done. I can't deal with this anymore."