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Home by 9
The familiar scent of alcohol hit me as soon as I entered. I glanced in the direction of the putrid smell and sure enough, there he was: deep in sleep and dribbling on the couch, bottle in hand.
I glanced towards the staircase. Safety was only five steps away. But the moment I shifted my weight onto one foot, the floorboards groaned. I stopped in my tracks and backed up against the wall, hands trembling. The snoring had stopped. He was staring straight at me.
I sprinted for the stairs, throwing my satchel backwards. I turned to see it hit him directly in the face. An angry growl erupted from behind me.
“Get back here you stupid boy!” Thud, thud, thud, went his footsteps behind me.
I felt his hand wrap around my ankle, dragging me back down the wooden stairs. I propped myself up on the bottom step, wincing. The pain in my shoulder was unbearable.
“What were you doing out this late, huh?! I said BE HOME BY 9, you idiot!” he snarled, looming over me.
It was twelve minutes past nine.
“I lost track of track of time- sorry!” I whimpered.
“Oh I’ll show you sorry, boy.” Grabbing me by the ear, he snatched me up and slammed me against the wall. I tried to lift my battered arm to shield myself. Tears streamed down my face.
“Please,” I begged. “St-”
Drawing back his fist, he slammed it into my face. “I work so hard every day to support our family and THIS is how you repay me!”
I became aware of the metallic taste of blood as blackness curled in from the outside of my vision.
And it was in that moment, as I lay crumpled on the ground, I wished I had never come home.
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