You exhaled slowly as you inserted your key into the lock. Fear danced up and down your spine as you prepared for what was to come. You pushed the door open cautiously, staying silent as you whipped your head in what seemed to be every direction all at the same time.


Seeing no trace of your father your focus locked onto the stair case that lead to the second floor, where your room was located. You slowly crept forward, heart pounding in your chest as you tried to silence your breathing. Close so close, just a little left to go. Your hand almost slipped off of the railing as you grabbed it, sweat having made your palm slick.

You began your painfully slow assent up the stairs, wanting nothing more than to break into a run and hide in the safe haven that was your room. "(Y/N)" Those words made the world begin to spin as the voice could only belong to one person. You gripped the railing as hard as you could, a hot tear slipping down your face as horrible snippets of the past flashed across your vision. "Can ya come down 'ere?"

You turned slowly reluctant to go down. You stared at your father who was slouched on the couch, his shirt nowhere to be seen and an empty beer bottle clutched in his hand. You slowly made your way over to him, breath quickening with every step you took. You stood stock still next to the couch as the world spun rapidly around you.

Your father scotched to one side of the couch and patted the spot right beside him. You moved rigidly, body refusing to cooperate with your brain, or was it the other way around? You didn't know any more.

You slowly sunk yourself into a stiff sitting position, your hand grasped tightly together in your lap. Your father draped his arm around your shoulders, and gave you a large, lopsided, and very much drunk grin. The strong stench of alcohol that radiated from his mouth was almost enough to make you puke.

"I love ya, ya know tha righ?" He slurred putting the empty bottle to his lips. He made a face before chucking it across the room. You winced as it smashed into the wall, shattering into millions of tiny little pieces. "Get me anotha beer woud ya?" He asked, flopping to the other side to allow you to stand. "And clean tha up while yer at it."

You scurried off into the kitchen to grab the broom and the beer that your father had "asked" for. You stared at the block of knifes that sat proudly on your counter, running your fingers over their hard wooden handles. You couldn't help thinking about it, after everything you had to go through, your mother, heh, your father. "Get your ass out here!" He yelled snapping you out of your depression fueled trans. You came out slowly, unwilling to go into the same room as your father. You handed him the beer cautiously then scurried away to clean the mess that he had made.

You heard the couch creek as you father stood, somehow perfectly still even though he seemed drunk enough to pass out at any moment. He stood motionless, staring holes into the back of your head as you swept up the broken shards of glass.

"My little girl grew up so beautiful." He said randomly his eyes still locked on the back of your head, a single tear glistening in the corner. "So beautiful, so, so…FUCK!" He punched the wall with all of his strength leaving spider webbed cracks surrounding a fist shaped dent.

This was bad, very bad. He'd lost it again. Nothing ever worked at this point. Panic flooded through you, clouding all clear judgment as your fight or flight (Something) kicked in as it had oh so many times before.

You jumped up, dropping the dustpan full of glass in the process, and sprinted towards the steps. Your speed couldn't save you this time as your father grabbed your hair and pulled you to the ground. "And where the fuck do you think you're going?" He asked as he slammed your head into the floor repeatedly, loud sickening thumps sound throughout the entire house. You let out a chocked cry, unable to do anything else.

He slammed your head into the ground again before raising to his feet. His foot collided with your gut causing pain to flood through your body. He rolled you over with his foot before slamming it down on your stomach. He reached down and pulled up on your hair until you had no choice but to look at him.

"Aww, is tha wittle baby gonna cry?" He laughed as tears spilled out of your eyes. "You're a disgrace." He said, mocking tone gone as he leaned on the leg that was still firmly implanted in you abdomen. "A disgrace to me, to your mother…your mother. Oh…" His eyes became distant as he stumbled into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator door.

You were half way up the steps by the time he threw the bottle to the floor, glass and beer exploding outward as it made contact. You turned your head. He was staring at you with a knife in his hands, attention going in between you and it. You ran towards your room slamming the door behind you as soon as you were in.

You pushed your desk chair under the door knob like the way you'd seen it done in movies before sitting against the door. Your buried your face in your arms and began to cry. No relief could be had as the door knob started rattling wildly and banging pushing you forward. "OPEN THIS DAMNED DOOR RIGHT FUCKING NOW!"

You saw the chair slide helplessly to the ground and were now taking the full force of your father's desires to enter the room. You jumped away from the door and your father fell, not expecting the lack of resistance. He recovered quickly and slashed at your leg. You screamed as you felt the knife slice through your lower calf, blood pouring like a fountain from the open wound.

You stumbled past as your father struggled to stand, alcohol taking a toll on his body. He lobbed the knife at you as you were trying to escape causing you to fall to try and avoid it. This was unfortunately the wrong choice as you rolled down the stairs before finally coming to a stop at the bottom.

The door opened to reveal Mike's friends. "Ahoy there matey are ye ready fer me ta swab ta deck with y-" Foxy stopped mid sentence as he saw the mess that was unfolding before him. Mike grabbed the knife from where it had fallen on the stairs and stalked towards you, intentionally dragging the moment out, running the knife along the wooden hand rail leaving a long shallow gash.

You struggled to stand but your body was too weak, the pain became worse every time you attempted to escape this crazed man. Freddy wrestled the knife out of Mike's hand and through it to the ground. "Mike, what are you doing?" Freddy asked franticly as Mike focused on grabbing the knife. "Somethin' I shoulda done a long time ago."

Foxy grabbed him from the back, restraining his arms as Mike's legs flailed about wildly. "LET ME GO!" Mike shouted as his efforts to escape doubled. You crawled backwards slowly as all four ganged up on him. You pulled yourself up and began making your slow escape.

You emerged from the house but didn't stop. You weren't safe, at least not yet. You stumbled down the road, a trail of blood dripping from your leg as your body slowly began to shut down.