Save me (on hold)

Chapter one

Ok so this is my first actual story that I will be attempting to write out. Please comment and tell me what you think. I will gladly any feedback good or bad. Ok so.... Enjoy😁😊

The alarm clock blared at 5am, jarring me out of me dreamless sleep. I groan as I hit the snooze button and turn the alarm off.
'I wish I didn't have to wake up so goddamn early!' I think as I get out of bed. I go into my bathroom and do morning routine. When I come back out I quickly get dressed and head downstairs to make dads breakfast before he wakes up. As I walk down the stairs, I cringe at the pain in my side. I tenderly rub the spot where a fresh bruise has appeared. I sigh as I reach the bottom of the stairs and walk into the kitchen, remembering the events from last night.
I had come home from school as usual and went upstairs to put my back pack down, before I went to make dinner. I went down to the kitchen and grabbed some things out of the fridge to make Fettuccine Alfredo and garlic bread. I was just putting the bread into the oven when dad got home from work and walked into the kitchen
"Haven't you finished with dinner yet?" he asked as he looked at me.
" no not yet. The garlic bread is in the oven and the Fettuccine Alfredo is almost done. Dinner will be ready in 10 minutes", I say as I walk back over to check on the Alfredo. Im about to pick up the spoon the stir it around when out of the corner of my eye I see him walk up to me. Then all of a sudden I'm on the floor with a pounding sensation on the side of my head. I look up at my dad with surprise.
"You face me when you talk to me young lady. Do you hear me?" He said as he stood over me. I was in shock for a second as I stared up at him.
"Y-Yes sir" I stuttered out as I looked at him. He turned around and walked up the stairs to his bedroom to change. I got back up and finished making dinner.
I set the table and got dads plate ready. When he came back down I was just setting his plate down on the table at his seat. He didn't look angry but I didn't want to chance anything so I didn't say a word as I ate dinner with him.
Afterwards when I was done cleaning the dishes I had gone upstairs to take a shower and do homework. Right as soon as I was about to sit down to do my homework, I heard my dad yell from down stairs.
"ANNA GET DOWN HERE NOW!"
I had run down the stairs and into the living room were my father was.
"Clean this up now" he said pointing to a whiskey glass lying next to a dark spot on the carpet.
"Ok" I said as I ran to get a towel. 'Really? he cant clean it himself?' I Thought as i grabbed a towel from the cupboard.I came back and was cleaning up the whiskey out of the carpet when my dad spoke again.
"Clean it faster" he exclaimed, starting to get angry. I began to spot it faster, in hopes of not making him any angrier. Then out of nowhere he kicked me in my side. I cried out in pain as I fell over clutching my side.
"You're so useless!" He exclaimed as he left to go upstairs. I was in complete shock now. Why would my dad do something like this. I never got my homework done that night.
As I think about what happened last night I begin making bacon and eggs. It wasn't like this before when mom was alive. When mom was alive dad was the best father you could ever hope to have. He treated me so lovingly. I was his little girl. We were the happiest family... But then about 6 years ago mom got cancer. Everything was still ok. Dad was so supportive and kept saying that it would be ok and that mom was going to be just fine. Mom would always smile and pretend that she wasn't in pain so that we wouldn't worry. But things slowly got worse. Eventually she reached stage four cancer and there was nothing that any of the doctors could do. A few weeks after that she slipped away. I was 12 years old when she died and it felt like my whole world had ended.Dad was so grief stricken when she died, but he still managed to put on a strong front for my benefit. He said that mom was in a better place and that she wasn't in pain anymore. A few months after the funeral we started to get used to the fact that she wasn't with us anymore and so we went on with our lives. Dad was still a great parent and he still treated me like his little princess. That is until their anniversary rolled around the first year that she was gone. My dad had been drinking that day. When I came home from school he had yelled at me asking where the hell I had been. When I told him I was at school all day he had slapped me and accused me of mouthing off. I had run to my room crying and didn't come down for dinner that night. The next day my dad had apologized profusely. I forgave him and had hoped that it wouldn't ever happen again. And it didn't.... For a while. About two months later it happened again and just like before my dad apologized profusely. I forgave him hoping that it would be the last time. But It wasn't. It started happening more and more often and soon my dad stopped apologizing and started blaming me that it was my fault I got hit. And every year when mom and dads anniversary rolled around he got more violent and beat me until I was black and blue all over, while he yelled at me saying that it was my fault mom had died. It continued for the course of the next six years up to this point.
I set the plate of finished bacon and eggs in the microwave for dad when he woke up so that they would still be warm and put a sticky note on the door saying that his food was in it. I make myself a piece of toast and after I'm done eating I go back upstairs to get ready for school.