Neo paced nervously, making sure each item was in its proper place. Her father would be home soon, and she knew that if the house wasn't spotless, there would be hell to pay. She stood in the entrance way, waiting for him to arrive. Her heart pounded furiously, and he palms began to sweat.
"Calm down," she told herself, "everything is okay."
Just then, the door handle began shaking. She sat upright and greeted her father as he walked into the house. He was wearing his normal fedora, a cigar sticking out of his mouth. He scanned the room quickly, searching for any flaws. He grumbled and threw his white jacket to the ground, watching as Neo rushed to pick it up and hang it properly.
Neo knew better than to ask how work had gone. Her father was always stressed, and usually came home exhausted. He chewed at the end of his cigar and frowned.
"Where's my dinner?" He asked, sniffing the air.
Neo's heart fell. "I didn't have the chance to prepare it, I was cleaning the house and-"
Neo's sentence was cut short by a stinging slap on her left cheek. She bit her lip to avoid crying out in pain.
"I ask for one simple damn thing!" Her father yelled.
"Father, I tried." Neo argued, backing away from him.
"Then where's my dinner?!" He demanded, grabbing her by the front of her jacket. She whimpered and brought her hands up to shield her face as her father began relentlessly hitting her. He threw her to the ground and sneered, "I'll get it myself then."
As her father stormed off, Neo ran upstairs to the safety of her room, slamming and locking her door behind her. She began gasping, her breaths shaky, before she broke down into tears, sobbing violently. She stared down at her palms, noticing the blood on them. She looked up in her cracked bedroom mirror to observe the damage. Her eye was turning a dark purple, swollen shut, her nose and lip bloody. She grabbed a nearby tissue and tried to slow the bleeding. Her father was like this every night.
She gritted her teeth in anger. It wasn't fair. Ever since her mother had died, her father had taken it out on her, beating her whenever he fit necessary. She didn't deserve this, no one did. She wiped the last of the blood away and observed herself in the mirror again. Then, without a second thought, she opened up the drawers and began throwing clothes onto her old mattress. She was leaving, tonight.