Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto or whatever else is in here

Caution: This story is VERY rough and if you read it, it will cut you. You have been warned.

Enjoy :)

"Sakura Haruno. Get your ass down those stairs right this minute and come here!"

I inwardly groaned and heaved my body up. I was exhausted, hungry, and just wanted to lie in a small ball under my covers and sleep for days. I could never get a break, could I? My cat, Leo, woke me up early in the morning to let him out to use the restroom when his litter box is just a room away. Afterward he wouldn't let me go back to bed. He kept rubbing his whole body against my face and making me sneeze continuously. Every time I quit petting him, he would meow loudly in my ear and knead my leg with his claws.

At school, the teachers had all gotten together and planned to have all the tests and quizzes today just to stress out and kill us students. I had three major tests (Geometry Honors, Biology, and World Geography) and some minor quizzes (Spanish and English Honors). To make everything worse, I couldn't keep my eyes open. I ended up sleeping all through Geometry Honors and Biology, only to wake up with 5 minutes left in class for me to randomly fill in answers. I knew I was screwed in World Geography and Spanish because God be damned if I learned anything in those classes. English Honors was the only class where I knew half of the shit they quizzed us on because I spent my whole lunch period cramming for it.

When I got home I immediately dropped my bag by the door to my room and collapsed on my bed. I was deep asleep for about an hour until my mom got home from grocery shopping and decided to check on my grades online. The past few weeks had been rough on me and my parents are very strict with me getting into a good cheap college because they didn't want me to end up like them. They were high school sweethearts who made some mistakes one night at a party when they were drunk. They both finished high school and a few months later I was born. They couldn't go to college and raise a baby at the same time, so they both got low-paying jobs that paid enough to support the family and pay the bills and mortgage.

Life at home had been good until I started getting bad grades. The teachers and my parents had all wondered why, but I never told them. I blamed it on that I didn't pay attention in class, but the real reason was from being bullied.

My dad was a real estate agent for a small company. After high school he went to realtors' school for a few months and applied for the job. He got the job, made a few sales, and got commission for the sales. He made enough money to stock up the liquor cabinet and earn some respect. My mom was the "town slut" and everybody knew it, especially the people in my class. Mom worked at a strip club to make ends meet with finances. Her exotic pink hair and jaded eyes made it easy for her to be popular with the men. She was good at her job, but it was nothing to be proud of. On the days when she would return home she would put all of her tips in a little money box and locked it back up in a safe. On the nights she didn't return home, dad got to drunk to even remember her being gone after bawling for hours to me about how his wife is just a sex toy to those monsters, and I knew that she went to give someone a "private dance" for an even bigger tip. Nobody ever came right out and told me, but I found out between my own intelligence, my dad's blubbering, and the little whispers and comments made by classmates. But the worst thing is, my dad doesn't even know. After my mom found out that I knew, she made me swear that I won't ever spill the beans to him. Not like that will ever happen, though. When my mom isn't there to stop him, he drinks until he the carpet is covered with vomit and he is passed out on the sofa with the TV blaring.

Kids call me all types of names. Ugly, stupid, idiot, fat, freak, smart-ass, slut, whore, and the names get more and more obscene each time. The girls will gossip about me, sneer and glare at me, and sometimes bump into me on purpose and knock me down. Boys think they will have their way with me just because my mom is a stripper. Anywhere on campus and in class they try to get me to do sexual things with them. The hallways are the worst. Whenever I leave the classroom to use the restroom, there is always one waiting for me it seems. Boys would slam me into lockers and whisper dirty things into my ear. Every time I would run from them. I have no friends to give me comfort or for me to confide it and tell my problems to. I only want to be accepted by them and to fit in.

So, to try and fit in, I played dumb and made my grades lower on purpose. But that was just I the beginning. Our school has an online grade checker and updates our grades every Friday. On the first Friday of the week that I decided to get lower grade, my mom freaked when she saw my grades. She called me down and instantly slapped me hard. My head was still spinning when she got done yelling at me. I was in a daze and promised I would do better and that I was sorry. She sighed and said she was sorry too and that she shouldn't have done that. It was just that I got her so mad at times and she can't control herself. Nothing serious happened that night, so I kept up the act.

School life was looking up a little. I was no longer being called smart-ass, and people stopped telling me to quit showing off. The problem was that my parents didn't approve of my new grades. A few weeks after the big decision and the scene with my mom, my dad looked at my grades with my mom. Mom hadn't told Dad, so when he saw them, he also freaked. I was relaxing on the couch and he came over and slapped me. If I thought my mom's slap hurt, his was worse.

"What the hell is happening? I look at your grades and I find Ds and Fs. Your mom and I send you to a good school so you can get good grades and so you can get into a decent college. You are wasting our money by getting the grades you are. What happened to the straight A daughter of mine?" I was speechless. "Huh? What do you have to say for yourself?"

I tried to look my father right in the eye, but I couldn't. His face was red with anger and he was breathing hard. My voice was shaky, but I managed to spit out, "I-I don't know."

Another slap. "Well until you magically transform back into the daughter I know, we will not be feeding a stranger. There will be no supper tonight. I want you to go up to your room and go to sleep. Your mom and I will think of a punishment for your horrible grades. Got it?"

I nodded and got off the couch. I was in shock. My dad had never hit me before. I had always been a good little daughter who never got in trouble, until now.

As I headed toward the stairs, I saw my dad turn to his wife. He asked her, "Did you know about this?"

My mom stuttered, "W-well, I-I might… Yes, b-but… She-she said that she would fix it."

Another slap rang in the kitchen like a thunderclap. It was silent except for my mother's shocked gasping. "You knew all this time and didn't bother to even tell me, bitch?" My mother pitifully nodded and my dad's hand rose up for another slap. I turned and hurried up the stairs. Work must have been bad today and this must have made it worse. Never had I seen him that mad before. Sure he had gotten mad before, but never to a point where he would hit his daughter, let alone his own wife. My stomach was growling while I got ready for bed. My thoughts were still thinking of what happened while I cried myself to sleep.

The next week of school I had tried my best. My head was reeling and dizzy from lack of food and I couldn't concentrate. I was made fun of the week for my sunken features and bags under my eyes. I studied and studied but I was only halfway through the tests when I felt my eyelids droop and my head nod. I always told myself that resting my eyes for a little couldn't hurt, but always woke up at the ring of the bell, which signaled the end of class. I turned in my half-completed, drooled-on test to teachers who looked at it with disgust in their eyes. I always thought in my mind, I'm sorry.

They held a parent-teacher conference that Friday to talk about my slipping grades. My teachers were disappointed in me and my parents were ashamed of me, that much I could tell.

"Mr. and Mrs. Haruno, do you know why we are holding a meeting about your daughter today?"

"Yes, because her grades have dropped and I'm guessing you want to know how that can be fixed," my dad said.

"Correct, Mr. Haruno. We have noticed Sakura's grades have drastically slipped and we were wondering what was happening. Is there anything traumatic going on at home? Or is there something happening at school that we don't know about?"

My parents shook their heads and my dad put on a confused look and spoke, "I was actually wondering if you could tell me. Everything is fine at home. This week had been chaos-free, really. Nobody was yelling at all and we had plans for an amusement park trip this weekend. No one was ripping each others head off this week or getting into fights." My father made a convincing chuckle at this, but only the people who lived with him knew he was faking everything. He glanced at my mother and put on a convincing fake smile. He placed his arm over her and rubbed her arm lovingly. "Anything to add, honey?"

My mom's eyes looked startled and scared for a quick moment, but quickly went to a motherly smile. "Sakura seemed very disappointed in herself and told us she is trying everything she can to bring them up. Her father and I have been very patient with her, but now I am wondering what we should do." Their voices droned on and on. When they asked me what the problem was I told them that I didn't pay attention in class anymore and that I promise I would try harder. The teachers started saying, "Well, it is true that she falls asleep in class…" They were digging me out of the hole I buried myself in at school, but only to shove me deeper in the hole that I dug at home.

The meeting finally ended with the promise that my parents would talk to me and try to straighten my out. I was ushered into the car with my parents getting in after me. Silence rang out as my father turned on the engine and just sat there. My heart was pounding and an emotion swept over me. Fear. I was actually afraid of my dad and what he would do to me.

He turned around in his seat, eyes full of anger and face red with rage. I cringed back in my seat, fear pulsing through me. His voice was low, but full of malice. "If we ever have to do that again, your punishment will be worse than what will happen at home." And with that he turned back in his seat and drove out of the school. During the drive home, I could scarcely breath. Life was about to be a living hell; that was certain. Long, suspenseful minutes crawled by and my heart felt like it was about to burst out of my chest when we rolled up our driveway. Dad came to my door and opened it. He said one word sternly, "Out."

My mom was already at the door by the time I got out. That is how we went in, Mom in front, me in the middle, and my dad in the back and who was acting like a prison guard taking a prisoner to her cell. I walked into the kitchen, waiting for the expected beating to come. My dad took his time closing the door and locking it. Tears were threatening to spill by the time he came into the kitchen.

I turned and said, "I'm sor—" Slap. My head snapped to the side and the breath went out of me.

"Don't you dare utter a word to me! Do you know how embarrassing that was? First work was horrible this whole week. There have been no sales this week and that means no paycheck. Then I get a call from my wife saying there is a parent-teacher conference tonight regarding your grades and how they are still are getting worse. We try our best, we really do. And for you to screw it all up, that breaks my heart. I do not want to see your face until those grades are raised or until I call on you. I had did all I can to help you and you didn't appreciate it. No! You only continued whatever the hell you were doing and messed up even further. Now, get out of my sight!" My father bellowed at me, face red with overexertion.

I was in tears by the time he was done. I blindly scrambled my way up the stairs and fell a few times. I heard my father laugh at my clumsiness and hit my mother and tell her how she should have done better, also. Her shocked gasps rang in my head and haunted my tear-induced sleep. One thought kept repeating itself in my mind, I'm sorry.

And then we come to the present week. I couldn't stay awake in any of my classes. Sleep makes the hunger go away, even if for a little while. Lunch was the only time of the day that I could eat, and it was mostly spent studying and trying to catch up. It felt like I was going in slow motion, but everything around me was sped up. I didn't understand a word the teachers said and only caught that there were multiple tests and quizzes on Friday. On Thursday I found out that I had a test in Biology, and I stayed up all night trying to catch up. Studying didn't work in my favor, though, because I ended up sleeping all through my classes. By the time I got home, I knew I was screwed. I wanted to get a few hours of shuteye before my mom got home. I fell down on my bed and instantly fell asleep, only to be awoken about an hour later by the slamming of the front door. I heard bags being set down on the counter and the humming of the computer coming on. I knew what was coming, so I squeezed my eyes shut and hoped for the best.

"Sakura Haruno. Get your ass down those stairs right this minute and come here!"

I inwardly groaned and heaved my body up. I stumbled past my door and down the stairs. My mom sat by the computer; her eyes were full of fury. "Hurry the hell up and look at these grades!" On the screen I mostly saw what I was expecting. F, F, F, D, and surprisingly a C on English.

"You know what your father and I expect out of you, right?" I miserably nodded my head. "And you know what these grades are unacceptable. We expect only Bs and As. I don't see any of those on here. Is there any excuse for this?" My mom asked me, her voice deadly calm.

I started to say, "W-well, yes. I-I couldn—" My head snapped fast to the right, my mouth went open in surprise, and my eyes went wide.

"No, there should be no excuse! Your father told me to take his approach to these situations and I agree. A little pain should put you back in your place." She grabbed me by the back of my neck tightly and pulled me over to the screen. "Look at these grades! I got better grades when I was your age and look at my life now! I have a shitty job with a husband who barely makes any money and I am the laughing stock of the town. And now my daughter is taking a path worse than mine was and probably going to have a job as a prostitute!" She turned me back around to face her and put both of her hands on my shoulders. "Now, do you finally get what Dad and I are saying through your thick skull?"

I said, "I-I have been—" Her hand met my face again and pain thrummed all over my face.

"And you shall not talk back to your mom either! Got it? It is a simple yes ma'am or no ma'am. That should be simple enough for an idiot like you."

"Y-yes ma'am." I said quietly, my face burning with shame and quiet anger. She should know that I do try. I do give it all I got and I do try to do what they expect of me.

"Now go up to your room and don't come down! Your father will be up soon to deal with you." My mom told me and I went obediently, hot tears crawling down my face.

On my way to my room I passed a bathroom. My eyes strayed to the mirror and I choked back my frightened gasp. Bruises were slowly forming around the nape of my neck and on my shoulders, curling out in the shape of a hand. My cheeks were red and swollen and hurt just to look at. But my eyes are what caught most of my attention. They were a deep green and reminded me of slowly rotting green bell peppers. They were filled with unshed tears that contained many emotions. Anger and a hint of hatred for my stupidity, sadness for my worthlessness, confusion for why my parents didn't understand and wouldn't let me explain, and hopelessness for my thoughts that nothing would—could— make this situation better.

I plopped down face first onto my bed and just let everything out. All of my tears came pouring down my face and my pillow muffled my sobs. My body shook with every deep breath I took and I shakily let it out. I shut out my thoughts of what I thought was going to happen and focused on what was going on downstairs.

It sounded like my mom was in the shower, and was starting to get ready for work. She would leave around seven and my dad would be home by seven thirty. It was a quarter after six now and I decided a shower for myself wouldn't be such a bad idea.

I headed into the bathroom and stripped. I avoided any glances in the mirrors and soaked in the comfort of hot water shooting at my body. My salty tears mixed with the water, and I blamed it on the intensity of the hot water. Something shifted in my mind and I resolved to never cry in front of anybody ever again, to never show any weakness or pain. To cut myself off from my own emotions. Emotions just make a person vulnerable to another's attack. Why did I start to get bad grades? Insecurity in my popularity. Why are my parents beating me? Disappointment and anger.

I stepped out of the shower feeling like a changed person. I dried off, got dressed in my pajamas, and headed downstairs. It was about six fifty in the evening and I was feeling a little hungry. The sounds coming from my mom's room sounded like she was doing her hair and makeup, so she wouldn't hear me getting food. Ever since my bad grades started coming home, I was forced to eat less. I don't really mind. The family is running a little low on money and we need to cut back on some things. Dad isn't making as much sales on houses as he used to and money has always been hard to get with Mom's job and her work's cutbacks.

I just got to the bottom of the stairs when I heard footsteps coming from Mom's room and her command sounded in my ears about not coming down. I raced back up the stairs as quietly and as quickly as I could. I dove under the covers on my bed and squeezed my eyes shut. The footsteps started coming up the stairs and my heart thudded in my chest. I tensed up, waiting for her to come in. I had no idea what she wanted, but she was probably just checking that I was still upstairs.

I heard my door squeak open and my heart pounded even louder. I tried to calm my panicked breathing and after what seemed like an hour, my mom hmpfed and went downstairs. Once I heard the front door close and be locked, I let out my breath that I didn't know I was holding. After the sound of a car rolling out of the driveway was gone, I leapt out of bed and went downstairs.

This was my favorite time of the day. I had about thirty minutes to do whatever I wanted and I wouldn't get punished. I took a water bottle and Poptarts out of the fridge. Being cramped in my room all day made me want to eat and walk around at the same time. I started randomly strolling around the house.

I started at the front door and looked at pictures of our family over time that I never took the time to look at before, but I was always cautious of when my dad was getting home so I kept glancing out a window. I saw a picture of my parents on their wedding day. My mother looked beautiful with her hair wavy and my dad looked like he was the luckiest man alive. The next picture was a baby picture of me with a cute forehead and jade eyes that looked like they didn't have a care in the world. My parents were holding me between them and had on huge, proud smiles and their eyes were sparkling with happiness. I smiled and mentally awwed, and looked at the next photo. I was a little older and this looked like it was around the time when my dad was in realtors' school. His face and eyes looked more tired than my mom's, who was still looking for work at that time. The next one was just of my mom and me. I was about five and just graduated pre-K. Friends who I don't know the names of anymore surrounded me. My mom was behind me with her hands on my shoulders. She looked tired from staying up all night for her job the previous night. Next picture was another family picture at the local park in front of a fountain. I was sitting on the steps by my parents' feet and they were standing and halfway hugging. I looked ecstatic, but my parents looked like they shouldered a heavy burden. I remember the night before the picture; they were yelling about strange words called "mortgage" and "loans" that I didn't know back then. Wrinkles framed their faces and an unhealthy shade colored their skins. And it looked like something died in their eyes. There seemed to be no happiness, no joy, or no relaxation in their lives.

The rest of the photos progressively got worse. In each photo, everyone was older and more tired. My eighth birthday at a swimming park, my soccer party, my parents' tenth anniversary, and my eleventh birthday at my favorite restaurant. There was one picture where my mom looked about five or six months pregnant, but the next picture she looked as flat as could be. Flashes of arguments about "Adam" crept into my mind and I put pieces together. It hadn't made sense then and I just pushed it out of my mind, but now I know my mom had a miscarriage, probably caused by my father. I looked at the most recent one; it was taken a month or two ago. I was unhappy, classmates had teased me horribly that day. Mom had come home late that morning from her job and got about an hour of sleep. Dad, who made no sales the few months before, yelled at her for coming home so late. She yelled at him for being so drunk and not bringing in money. I was sitting at the dinner table, eating breakfast, and was trying to calm both of them down.

I wandered back into the kitchen. What happened to us? My thoughts were cut short with the sound of a car rolling into our driveway. This is the part of day I dread most. I raced upstairs, hid my water bottle under my pillow, and threw the trash from my food away. I sat at my puny desk and started my Spanish homework. As the front door opened my breathing had already slowed, but my heart was still racing. Footsteps came up the stairs and I prayed to whatever higher being that was up there that I would make it out of this alive.

My eyes were focused on my homework as my dad knocked lightly on my door and stepped in, but my mind was racing. Does he know? Mom did you tell him? What is he going to do? Thoughts raced around in my head and my breath caught when he asked me, "Sakura, honey, can you look at me please." My head slowly turned up and I look at my dad right in the face. "Yes, dad?" I asked shakily.

"Come here." He said quietly. I do. He puts his hands on my shoulders, not unlike Mom. "How many times do I have to say this? Stop slacking OFF!" With his last word, he shoved me and I hit the wall. His hand came in contact with my jaw and I saw stars. I collapsed on my floor and when my vision came back, my dad was gone. He was probably tired from his failing job and didn't have the energy to take it out on me tonight.

I don't even remember my head hitting the pillow before I was out.

I woke up on the Saturday morning with a quiet house and a pillow wet with my tears. Dad was at a showing and Mom would be returning soon. I headed downstairs and poured a bowl of cereal. While I was in the pantry shuffling around some boxes, I saw a stash of wines and beers. I don't know if they are my mom's or my dad's, though. I shrugged it off and sat down on the couch and turned on the TV. My cat jumped up next to me as I surfed the channels, looking for some cartoons. I may be 16, but I'm still a kid at heart at times. Flipping to Tom and Jerry, I relaxed and started eating.

Half an hour later I was finished with my food and was anticipating how Jerry would get away from Tom. I was so into the TV that I barely heard the door open and the voices that floated through. Only when there was loud laughing did I turn to see who interrupted my TV time. My mom was leaning on the doorframe talking to some man. He leaned down to kiss her and she tilted her head up. That man wan not my father. And the thing was this has happened before.

My mother bid him a goodbye and closed the door, looking exhausted. She looked up and her eyes widened when she saw me. She gave me a look that said don't say a word or else. I wouldn't say anything, but curiosity got the best of me. "Who was that?" I asked. "Just a client. He dropped me off because my car broke." Code words for "He is someone I'm seeing for extra money. Don't tell your dad because we need this money."

I said something along the lines of "oh", put my dishes in the dishwasher, and went upstairs to get ready for the day. These types of days have happened before. Mom gets dropped off by one of her secret boyfriends, Dad finds out and drinks himself too drunk to even remember, and Mom goes off to work while I am stuck cleaning up Dad's puke on a Saturday night. I don't have friends to meet up with, but even a walk is better than cleaning duty.

I pulled on jeans, a comfy t-shirt, and sneakers. With my teeth brushed and face washed, I headed downstairs. My mom was sitting on the couch, petting my cat and watching Real Housewives of Orange County. She loves it, but I never really understood it. Like mother like daughter, she was so focused on the TV that she didn't hear the sounds of a car coming up the driveway or the footsteps to the garage door. From then, everything happened in slow motion.

I turned to my mom and said in a frightened tone, "Dad's here." She looked at me with wide eyes and at the same time, the door clicked open. There was nothing she could do now; Dad would see her either way. She went to the kitchen quickly and started cleaning dishes. I stayed at the stairs, hidden from the kitchen, yet I could see everything that would happen. Dad came in, set his things down, and sat at the island. Curiosity got the best of me again and I stayed, eavesdropping.

It all was fine, they were making small talk like how was each other's day and interesting things that happened at their job, until my dad asked, "Where is your car?" Silence rang in my ears. "It's um, at work. It broke down and I couldn't get it started."

"So how did you get home?" My father was still smiling, but there was a slow burning anger in his eyes. He already knew the answer.

"A friend drove me."

"Mhmm. A friend like one of your girlfriends or a friend like a friend with benefits?" He took a breath, but wouldn't let my mother answer. "I'm going to guess option number two and lets dwell on that. A secret lover? I had some buddies down at the club update me on a certain man who you spent extra time with in he back rooms. And I'm guessing you spend time with him here as well?" With each sentence his voice was getting louder and his face more red with anger.

"I have stayed loyal to you all throughout our marriage. I didn't have to, but I did! I had plenty of opportunities to just get up and leave your sorry ass behind. One hot client was practically begging me to have sex with her right there in a stranger's house. As much as I wanted to, I remembered I had morals and a family to come home to. And you just forget all that first chance you get?" He got up rom his chair and stood in front of my mom. "Never see him again," he said, quietly and slowly, but filled with anger and maybe a hint of sadness.

My mom looked away, eyes brimmed with tears. "I can't. He's a regular," she whispered. Smack. My dad hit her face with his ring turned around for more of an impact. "Then you can go running to him and not to me. But first, who all knew about this besides half the town, all of my friends and yours, and the whole club? Did our daughter know?"

My mom and I gulped at the same time. "I-I don't know," she said. "Sakura!" My dad bellowed, "Get down here right now!" I slowly came out of my hiding spot, knowing what would happen. "Yes, Dad?"

"Did you know that your mother has been seeing another man and coming home with him?" I couldn't lie to him, he would just find out later. I decided not to speak. My silence was practically screaming a yes.

I closed my senses to what happened next. It was like I was on autopilot. I would speak, flinch, and make actions appropriate for the situation; but I would not feel. It was like I receded into my heart. It would leave a mark, but I would only feel the after effects. He started with my mother, beating her until she had a bloody nose and was sobbing and begging him to stop. His attention turned towards me and I noticed that there was stinging, but I didn't exactly feel it. My autopilot self was flinching, but keeping true to my vow of not crying in front of anybody.

"When will you two learn that I run this house? And I don't want you to leave this house to go to work tonight! Say you're sick or something," my dad said, the anger going out of his eyes. Exhaustion took over him and he muttered that he was going to catch a few hours of sleep. Once he was out of sight, my mom shuffled to the kitchen sink and slashed some water on her face. The pink-tinted water caught my attention until it faded back to clear. She then went to the couch, started her show again, and everything seemed normal on the outside. Everything was a mess on the inside.

How could she just shrug everything off? She's in denial. She doesn't want to believe that her husband beats her and her child. That, or she's scheming a way to go meet her secret boyfriend at work tonight. I went to my bedroom and grabbed a book. So much for going out today. Dad would have this place on lockdown. I went downstairs and curled up on the window seat in a guest room. I read until I heard voices, and then I tuned in.

"Honey, here sit down. Have a drink. I want to talk to you," Mom said in a sweet tone to her husband. He did and poured himself a small drink. "What?" He asked harshly. She put her hand atop of his and said in the same sweet voice, "I won't go to work tonight if that's what you want. I will stay home, with you." "Good, thank you," he said as he poured himself another drink. I noticed with suspicion that my mom wasn't drinking hers, only pretending to. I've seen this trick before. And my dad falls for it every time.

Mom would spike the wine with heavy vodka, and my dad just gulps it down, not tasting it. The aftereffects were horrendous. Mom would leave and I would be left alone with an angry, drunk, and abusive father. As they talked and my dad got even drunker, a growing sense of dread filled my stomach. This couldn't go on for much longer. Everyone's luck runs out at some point. Drunken laughs come floating in and I see my parents on the couch kissing. Ugh. My dad is still drinking and over time he slowly passes out. Mom hurriedly gets off the couch, fixes her clothes and makeup and turns to me. "I will be back around lunch tomorrow. Take care of your father." And that's it. No hesitation as she walks out the front door with her keys.

I start reading my book again, but my eyes just skim over the pages, not registering anything. About an hour later, I heard rustling on the couch. With no doubt it was my dad, I stayed hidden, but I could still see. His face showed confusion, then a flicker of realization, and then unmasked anger. He went to the kitchen and threw the empty wine bottle at the door. He picked up a stool and chucked it at the window, though thankfully it missed. I could see a crazed look in his eyes and spit coming out of his mouth. Angry shouts and indistinct murmurs filled the once quiet house. He grew tired and vomited on the rug. Minutes later he was dry heaving and collapsed in the messy pile.

My job was to clean up. I cleaned up the shards of glass and garbage that was strewn all over the house and righted the furniture. I used several paper towels to clean up the puke and gagged the whole time. I wetted some more paper towels and wipe my father's face until it was clean. I then went upstairs, got ready for bed, and went straight to sleep. I don't enjoy the job, but it brings in money that we need. I would take one for the family any day. They may not be the best parents, but they were mine.

A/N: Hi there ^^ Like i said it's my birthday gift to u guys, but if you don't like it I have the receipt around here somewhere. Please reveiw and tell me how it was! should i continue or hang up my computer on a coat rack forever? but be nice:)

Thanks!