Eighth Grade

The sting of the slap punctured the darkness of her sleep and her eyes flew open.  He was just a figure in the darkness, standing beside her bed.

“What the hell, Dad?!?”

She knew full well that she had just asked the wrong question, and immediately braced herself as a second slap burned across her face.  He was always so calm when he was like this.  It was almost as if he had already justified his craziness to himself.

“You’re a slut, just like your mother,” he shouted at her before storming out of the room.  She laid in the dark. Face burning, fighting back tears.

Here’s to another night of fear induced insomnia.

 

A note from the author: Abuse should never be tolerated.  If you or someone you love is suffering from Physical, Verbal, or any other form of abuse PLEASE report it! It will never end unless you take a stand.

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