"You bitch!" His words seemed distant, but the pain from his grip on her arm reminded her that he was still there. He was always there. "You sneaky, little bitch!"

She knew she hadn't done anything wrong – even if she had, there was no way it deserved this – yet fear pressured her to apologize. If she apologized and let him finish this punishment things would go back to normal. Maybe a few extra bruises, but he would be sweet and loving and she would be careful not to mess up again. Yet no apology escaped her lips. Things had to change.

"Talk! Say something!" He commanded as his grip loosened slightly.

"I called the police" she whispered.

"What did you say!?" His grip tightened as he grabbed her throat in his other hand.

"I called the police before you came home. They should be here soon." She wasn't sure where the courage came from; especially since nobody was coming. She kept her face expressionless, hoping he wouldn't call her bluff. She tried to think of something else to say if he didn't leave, but it wasn't necessary. He let her go and backed away. She held her breath as he quickly walked through their New York apartment, throwing things in bags.

She gasped for air when she heard the front door slam. She quickly picked up her phone and called the first person she could think of. A cheerful voice answered, but she quickly cut them off. "Dad, help me."