Sixteen year old Aubrey lay in a bed, wrapped in a mountain of blankets. The sun was just beginning to rise in the sky, a sliver of light shining through her open window. She yawned sleepily, halfway between the present world and dreamland, and was about to go back to sleep when the door slammed open. She scrambled to sit up, her dazed confusion numbing her senses.
"How could you?" the man at the door growled. Sergeant Posen stumbled into the room, face darkened with rage.
"W-what? What's happening?" Aubrey cowered in her bed, clutching the blankets to her chest as though they might protect her from what was about to unfold.
"She's gone," he hissed, closing the distance between them with a few strides. He grabbed his daughter by the shoulders. Aubrey could smell the alcohol on his breath.
"Who's gone?" she whispered, but she already knew the answer.
"You know who, you little bitch!" Sergeant Posen roared. "She left us, and it's your fault. If you hadn't caused so many problems, if you hadn't burdened her with your insignificant little issues, if you-" He stopped when he realized that Aubrey had recoiled, knees drawn up to her chest. Her body shook with silent sobs. "Hey! You look at me when I'm speaking to you!" He brought his palm to her cheek and slapped her, hard. She whimpered and turned to face him, his image blurred by the tears that were streaming from her eyes.
"You're pathetic. You're worthless." His eyes were unfocused, his words slightly slurred. "You, Aubrey Posen, are a failure. And that's the reason your mother left us."
He turned and left the room without another word. Aubrey trembled, the sobs racking her body, leaving her gasping her air. She leaned over the side of her bed and heaved, but nothing came out. Her mother was gone… It wasn't really a surprise; she'd been distant the past couple of years, a shadow of her former self, a woman aching to get out of this hellhole of a house. And perhaps it truly was Aubrey's fault that she was gone… Her stress, her panic attacks… She'd put that on her mother, hadn't she? She'd tried to do everything right, but she'd failed so many times… Oh God, her father was right. Her mother was gone, and it was all her fault.