"P is for Prue trampled flat in a brawl"
Prue is one those children, who goes through a biggest drift age of passing. There has to be that one idea, which maybe some parents should wait, until a child is old enough to handle seeing their parents splitting away from each other. There has to be some kind of waiting list, or a moment like blamelessness gold heart Prue, won't have run away from her mother.
Who couldn't just let the pain set, going on reasons, tired or drunk herself, on why Prue's father was never fit to be a father. When in honest, worked against the mother, on trying to find that she was the good one. Whatever words slip from Prue's mother's mouth, fit everything that was her mother, maybe more than her father, as the monster she made him be. Yet, seeing it as Prue doesn't fully understand the darker emotions that run through most people, of the adult age, and bitter words cut sharper than how, most would want that.
Leading to Prue now standing: shakily possible, but here for now, during the middle of the day to ditch school, to go in search of her father. The man who left quickly, after losing a battle, he just couldn't win. Prue wanted thing for certain, as she wandered through the town, nearing places she recalled her father taking too. Passing a few familiar shops, fiercely at the center of attention to him now, as this was their world they shared. Pitiful to have thoughts, that maybe the mother didn't like sharing, but now, the facts are not on the mother.
Only the child, a young girl, was looking for the father that ran. Finding through most of the shops, one place that her father left her by the door a few times, asking her calmly for her to wait for him, as he popped in for a moment. Prue remember fondly of how happy he was, when he came back, for her to treat her with ice cream for being a good girl.
A little the memory could be to the child, but it was enough, for her to brave up and for once in a long while, open that door. Without a second thought rushes in, straight into a drunk madness of a brawl, that broke out long she enter. Prue though, remained calm, trying to wind around the larger beings of her, looking for one face, and only that. What she never would happen, was when a bruised bystander had enough of the endless brawling and took the chance to pull the fire alarm.
Prue, who should have been watching where she was going, ended where an exit was, so small she was, hardly anyone would noticed trying to get out, in time before the cops showed up. Prue had been thrown in the mixed, under weights of dumbbells around her, breaking and twisting her most worst, than a tornado making way through the flatlands.
The brawl was over, everyone was one gone before the cops came, but the cops would be back, for only to question on the batter remains of a child that over glanced to ever been that place. Left near the welcome mat, broken, covered in blood. Knowing later, that she only wanted to find her father, there is a split second of thought; that the first person to break her was the same man that broke their promise way back.
Interesting thought, yet couldn't be, as chances like are too high, but have been really proven wrong before.