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Chapter 5

One slap. Two slaps. I force myself to stay strong. "Sorry," I mumble. He stares at me for a minute and I panic. Have I knocked it this time? He stares at me solidly. I wait silently until eventually he orders gruffly "Make dinner". I nod and feel Millie brushing against my leg supportively. Dad steps back and pushes me forcefully downstairs. I head towards the kitchen and glance at the clock. One o'clock it read. I turn around and see a pile of empty bottles scattered in the corner. I briefly dart between my dad and the bottles, alternating between them rapidly. There had to be at least 20 bottles there. Dad notices my puzzling looks and starts again on his string of hurtful words. It's the bottle, not him. The bottle. I repeat over and over again in my head. I they to ignore him and start on the cooking but then he mutters something that stabs me in the mind and feels much worse than anything he'd actually hit me with before. I turn around in horror and just stare.