I saw him swaying as he ascended the stairs up to our apartment unit. He's drunk again as usual. Afraid he might hurt us again, I quickly went back to our room and pick up my daughter intending to hide them to the little closet we had in this one bedroom unit. It's the safest hiding spot in this place so far so that they won't have to witness and experience their father's violence. My heart is hammering in my chest. No matter how hard I try to get used to being physically and emotionally abused, I can't seem to get used to it. I can hear him getting closer and the closer he got the more terrified I am. He opened the door with a loud bang and I can hear the soft sobs of my children. It breaks my heart that I can't do anything for them. I wanted to run away, but where will we go? How would I support my kids? Even though my bastard of a husband is a drunkard and hurts us at least he puts food in the table which I won't be able to do if we run away. If only there is someone who could help me.