𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐂𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐌𝐞 𝐀𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧 , 𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘭

I sat in the living room listening to the tv when my father stumbled out of the kitchen. He had just arrived home from a night of drinking his sorrows away.

Dad: Why the hell are you still up! Go to bed, I don't want to see your dumb little face ever again!

Emily: But Dad-.

My father wasn't having any of my disobedience. He clumsily approached me and struck my face with the back of his right hand. I clutched the left side of my face in pure pain.

Dad: Don't question me again! GET OUT!

I was frozen there. It wasn't because he had hit me. He did, all the time, but no matter how many times he slapped or punched, or kicked me, it still affected me. My father was furious at my further disobedience. Since I wasn't moving, he thought it best to motivate me. He grabbed me by my hair and dragged me off the couch to the stairs. I still didn't budge. He lifted the beer bottle in his hand above his head and swung it down.

Cover by @mia_pearson