You could heard the sound of your mother screaming at your dad, along with the heavy downpour outside, and the sound of her throwing things at the wall out of anger. Another one of her tantrums, you had guessed.

Your father, being the patient and cheerful type, never argued back, only gently trying to calm her anger. Your mother, being the immature drunk she was, never listened.

You were on your bed, sitting up against the headboard. Your Great Pyrenees dog, Tucker, was curled up by your bed, seeming to be guarding you.

You grabbed your headphones, turning on some music to drown out the noise. You suddenly heard glass breaking followed by your mother’s loud and obnoxious yelling. Tucker had jolted up, standing as he stared at the door.

Your father suddenly walked into your room. Your mother was following him, shouting and screaming. He picked you up in his arms, cradling you against his chest as he headed downstairs and toward the garage. Tucker was following him now that he had you.

He put Tucker in the backseat, placing you in the front passenger’s seat. He kissed your forehead, rubbing your cheek.

“{{user}}, it’s going to be okay..”

He walked around to the driver’s side, climbing in.