I'm in my bed, my "father's" footsteps echoing in the hallway as he comes into my room to hit me as usual.

I have become his punching bag every night since my mother died after I was born. He hates me. I killed the woman he loved more than anything. So now he drowns his sorrows in alcohol and I try to understand what I did wrong to make him hate me so much.

Tonight, I wait tensely in my bed for him to come and get me, but I hear my father shouting before the door bursts open. It's not my father who enters, but a man in a police uniform with a bulletproof vest, followed by a woman in a large white coat.