Savior// E.D.

F I V E

The next day, I rolled out of bed to look at my clock, and unfortunately, I had done so thirty seconds before my alarm would tell me to get up. Great.

I decided to stay home today. I was not in the mood to be harassed and beaten. By now, I wouldn't be surprised if the entire nation has heard of my scars that were trailed along my arms. I wouldn't be surprised if Ethan managed to ruin my life even more.

So with that, I snuck downstairs, hoping my dad wasn't hungover, and staying home from work. My dad became an alcoholic as soon as my mom passed. He and I went to a therapist after her passing, and he spoke to me about it. He told me it was a coping mechanism, and should pass soon. Two years after, and it still hadn't changed.

I told our therapist, and my therapist talked to my dad about it. Sadly, he made the mistake of telling a drunk man of the person who took away his drink... me.

That night my dad slapped me. Just once. Nothing more. But it slowly got worse. It's normally a shove or a slap, but it can occasionally become even more brutal.

It's difficult. No one knows, and I plan on keeping it that way. The hard thing is, when he isn't drunk, he treats me like a normal human. We don't speak of it.

I peaked my head downstairs, and noticed he was gone, so I let out the deep breath I had stored in my lungs.

I made coffee and breakfast, and headed back to my room to enjoy some peace and quiet before going back to reality (hell) tomorrow.

Heaven today, hell tomorrow.

I heard screeching breaks coming from the road in front of my house, and peeked to see who it might be. I thought it would be my dad, possibly coming home from a bad hangover, or to grab something for lunch, but instead I saw a car I was much too familiar with.