Intro:
I was 10 years old when it first happened. My dad had been out drinking. I still remember the screams from my living room. At first they sounded more like pleads than screams. But as time went on they turned into loud cries. I ran down to the dim lit living room to find my mom crying in a corner. My dad was shouting slurred words at her. My mom's eye got huge as she saw me standing in the doorway with tears streaming down my face. It didn't take long for my father to see me, and when he did all I saw were chilling eyes of madness. All the lovingness that ever shined through them was gone.
"Get out of here, Drea!" My mom cried with scared eyes, but I couldn't move. I tried to tell myself it was all a bad nightmare and I would wake up in my bed. That whenever you have a bad dream, something triggers in your mind to wake you up just before to bad guy attacks you. I waited for that to trigger as my dad slowly walked over to me.
"You heard your mother!" his voice boomed. "Get the hell out of here!" As he said that, he struck a powerful hand across my cheek. My mom shirked as I fell to the ground. I looked up at him with terrified eyes, and saw a grief-stricken look cross his face. But as quickly as it appeared it faded away, replaced with pure anger.
Now I am 17 and I still feel afraid to go home at night. I still feel resentment every time my father tries to even talk to me. And I still feel like the only way I will ever be able to wake up from this nightmare is to run, fast.