Just my luck

Chapter 1

Marie's POV

I woke up to the sound of my parents fighting. I glanced at the clock. '3:47! Seriously mom and dad!' I couldn't fall back asleep, so I went downstairs to see what all the commotion was about.

All I saw was a few broken glasses and my mom screaming in pain. She had tons of little, but deep cuts everywhere from her chest up. I called the police once again (the last few times they couldn't find any evidence because my parents sobered up in enough time to clean up and make themselves look innocent).

I helped my mom up and cleaned up her cuts while the police came. After that was done, the police were still on their way, and I couldn't find my dad. I decided to search the house for him. I didn't have to look far though, he was passed out near the door to his bedroom. I guess he was trying to get to bed. I woke him up, and dodged his punches.

"The police are on their way!"

I let the police in and showed them to my mom for them to look at her cuts. I didn't bother cleaning up the broken glass, I left it as evidence.

They took notes and sectioned off some areas of the house, like the kitchen, where my mom was cut, and my parents alcohol room.

I finally called for my dad to come down and tell the police what he did. He didn't come down, so I brought them to his room, where I watched him go after I woke him. He was on his bed, passed out, once again. I woke him again, and dodged all but one of his punches, in my gut.

The police asked what had happened with my mom, and he said they got into a fight about who would get the next bottle. My dad won and he chugged the entire bottle, then threw the empty bottle at my mom, then went upstairs to his bedroom to get some sleep. When I woke him up and he doesn't like that so he tries to tell me that without speaking.

The police asked me to come with them to see one of their detectives, and tell my story again. At that point, I would do anything.

At the police station, I met Detective Albert.

"Where should I start?"

"At the beginning would be nice."

"It started after my older brother, Logan died from lung cancer. My parents didn't know how to handle it." I was sniffling a little bit by now. "They drank to 'swallow their tears'. While that started to happen, I was even more in mourning because he was my big brother, and he was the most caring person I ever met. That was probably why he was the most popular person in his high school. I just graduated high school, and have put up with my parents being alcoholics for more than four years. When I do something that they don't like, they hit or whip me. That's why I always wear long pants. I'm eighteen and am able to move out, I have tried, but they have tracked me down and found me every time. And every time they give me a beating." By now, I was bawling, tears were streaming down my face. "Almost every night they go clubbing or see other people. It's on a rare occasion that I don't have to lug them into the house while they're passed out on the front steps."