Hate me Today
Prologue- Her blood
Another drunken night.
My father walks through the door with a bottle of vodka hanging limply in his hand. The same way it's been for months, since mother died.
He blamed me.
It was all my fault that she had died in his mind.
I should have been in the driver's seat of the car when we smashed into the phone poll. I should be the one dead.
It would have been easier to loose his daughter than his wife. And I agree with him, anything would be better than what I live through day to day.
I can't say a word to anyone; I mean how would that look? Hermione Granger is Perfect, the perfect grades a third of the golden trio and of course all would assume the perfect family.
I look over to the chair where he sits, maybe if I'm lucky tonight I can make it to my room without him noticing me.
Not Tonight.
He stands and walks over to me, his fist raised and ready to strike. Once, twice, three times, it's all the same show no pain and he may show mercy.
After all, why should he stop, it's my fault she isn't here right now I should be ten feet under, not her.
Hermione Granger, her blood's on your hands.