NOTE:Bad language, and violence.

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Chapter 7

Melissa's POV

I opened my eyes. The sunlight bathed my skin as I lay on my side. I tried closing my eyes. I didn't want to deal with today. Thoughts bit at my brain, forbidding me to go back to sleep. I looked around me. I felt guilty for not returning home last night. I could almost see My dads angry eyes staring at the wall, his blank look, and him pressing his palms against his temples, like he always did when he wasn't in control. I sat up and looked around the room, I saw steam creeping out from under the bathroom door. I heard the front door creek open and looked to see Dean walk in with a paper bag in hand.

"Hey. I'm glad you're awake, I brought breakfast." He said, as he dug through the bags. "I wasn't sure what you liked so I got you pancakes."

"That's fine." I got out of bed. My stomach growled as I sat down. It felt strange not having to cook, but I refused to get used to it. It was my job to take care of my dad, and I didn't deserve all the kindness Dean was giving me. I took a bite of my pancakes.

"So, if it's not too much to ask, could you give me a ride home?" I asked softly, I could hear my dad's voice ringing in my mind. 'Who do you think you are? Did I offer? You're ass is walking, you could lose some weight.' I sighed.

"Yeah, we'll eat first and I'll drop you off." I could hear reluctancy in Dean's rough, yet velvet voice.

"Thank you, for allowing me to stay with you and Sam, and thank you for the breakfast."

"No problem." Dean smiled. I blushed at his beautiful smile that lit up his amazing green eyes. I finished my pancakes, as Dean told Sam he was dropping me off. We drove home when I realized, I was still wearing Dean's clothes. I hoped he wouldn't mind. I could just wash them and return them as soon as possible. I gave him directions to my house, and he pulled up to the curb. I thanked him, and he finally looked at me.

"If thing's get too bad, will you call me?"I was surprised, I thought he would of been glad to get rid of me. My dad always told me I was irritating. I looked at him and nodded. I got out the car and headed to my front door. I watched the Impala drive away until it was out of sight. I gulped, and opened the door. I sat my backpack by the front door, and looked around nervously. My dad's car was in the driveway so why wasn't he here?

"Dad?" I called out softly. I walked further into the house, and turned into the living room. I walked in the kitchen and saw him sitting at the table, swirling whiskey around in his glass.

He looked up at me with blood-shot eyes. "Where the hell have you been?" His voice raised, and his words slurred. I swallowed hard. He was drunk, and that meant that things were about to get real bad for me.

"I spent the night a friends." I said softly, I was walking a fine line.

"Spent the night at a friends my ass." He raised his voice and took a swig of whiskey from the bottle.

"I'm sorry." I averted my eyes. I should of been here. He was getting better, and like everything else I screwed it up.

"You're sorry? That's all you have to say, you little bitch?!" His voiced boomed as he stood up and knocked the whiskey bottle to floor. He strode over to me with a look of pure hatred towards me, and a set in his jaw. I shut my eyes tightly as he reared his fist back and punched me in the jaw. I heard a pop as I fell to the floor. His steel toed boots collided with my stomach again and again, I lost count of the popping sounds I heard. Tears stung in my eyes and obscured my vision. I couldn't cry out. It would only make this last longer. He straddled my waist and wrapped his caloused hands around my neck tightly.

"I should of done this a long time ago." He hissed.

Gasping for air, I tried to push his hands away and was rewarded with another blow to the jaw. The grip I had on his hand began to loosen, and black spots speckled my vision. The last thing I remember was hearing a small voice inside my head telling me it would be alright.

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