A 'Brilliant Future'

Chapter 4; "Mirai"

A/N: The italic part of this chapter may contain graphic abuse, read at your own risk

He was screaming. Again. Drunk, fucking bastard, not able to think straight. He wobbled around the house, a bottle in his hand, hitting walls as he tried to walk straight. I closed my door just before he could enter and bother me, pushing my back against the surface to hold him out. I didn't want him here. Not now. He would go complaining about the money and the house again and he would notice the fresh bloody stripes on my arms. He would start asking questions about how I got those, even though he's the one who gave them to me. Taking a chair and blocking the door by placing it under the doorknob, I checked if it would hold out a drunk 50-year-old bastard. It held perfectly. Good. I just wanted to take a shower without being disturbed.

I walked through the other door in my room leading to the bathroom and stripped myself of all my clothing. Turning on the shower, I began removing the elastics from my hair as I waited for the water to get hot. Just as I was about to finish one pigtail, I heard a loud bang come from my room. The chair had fallen over and my father came barging in. No no no no no NO! Fucking not now! Why?

He started screaming, waving the bottle through the air, spilling the alcohol all over my stuff. I groaned, hiding my face in my hands. Why did he have to be so aggressive right now? Can't he leave me alone for just an hour? Seems like he couldn't.

Some people would say it's nice to have your father's attention for the whole day, but for me it isn't quite 'nice', because all the attention I get from him, is angry screaming or hitting, or both.

Apparently, he disliked me not paying attention. He stepped forward, I was surprised he didn't lose his balance, and slapped me full in my face. Tears welled up in my eyes, not because it hurt, but because I despised him. I despised him so much, I even wished him dead. He was the main reason my life was so miserable, so if he would be gone, it would be better for me.

Clots of spit flew in my face as he roared, looming over me, threatening and dark, and so drunk. His breath smelled awful and his teeth were yellow. He struck out with the bottle, trying to hit my head. I ducked away just in time, because a millisecond later the bottle flew over my head and hit the wall behind me, shattering into a thousand little pieces. The parts of glass and the drops of alcohol showered over me, staining me with the sticky fluid.

One piece got somehow stuck in my cheek and pain flared up. I could feel the blood run down my face and dripping off my jawline. It angered me. I raised my hand and ripped out the piece of glass, that appeared quite big actually, and in a fit of temper, planted it in his arm. He screamed and pulled my hair painfully hard, pulling me out of the shower. I stumbled into my room, tripped over the spilled drink and fell forward, catching my bodyweight with my arms and knees. The impact of the ground shot through my arms into my shoulders, even through my spine. I gritted my teeth and bit away the pain, crawling forwards and out of his reach as quickly as possible.

He didn't follow me immediately, he stumbled around in the bathroom for some time, it seemed he was searching for something. Well, at least he was occupied with something. This was my chance to get away. I jumped to my feet and made a move towards the hallway, but I froze when I heard the angry scream of my father. That was a mistake. I should've run even faster instead of stopping, but now it was too late. My father came wobbling out of the shower, holding handcuffs in his right hand. He firmly took my arm with his free hand and started pulling me out of the room through the hallway towards the front door. I tried to stop him, I tried to squirm free from his iron grip, I tried to slow down by hanging all of my weight onto his arm, but the floor was too clean to get a grip on with my bare feet and my father was too strong to notice my bodyweight. Resisting was useless, but it was the only thing I could do now. I didn't want to go outside, I was naked, for bloody Heaven's sake! He wasn't thinking straight anymore, the alcohol had clouded his brain.