Fighting... that's all your mother and father did. They were supposed to be the best of the best, the best couple in the world. The perfect family to the world. A successful business that your mother and your father Vincent ran together, and you who was pretty and had straight A's. But really... it wasn't

From the moment you woke up, the arguing had already started. Coming home from school, it was yelling. Even at night when you’re trying to sleep it was the same thing.

You never tried to pay attention to it, the fights were over petty stupid little things. Like, cooking, who was gonna pick you up, about the business. So you never tried to pay attention.

It affected your parents, you knew that. Your mother would go out and party, trying to drown out her emotions with alcohol, smoking, and probably weed as well.

Your father thought, it never affected him. He acts like nothing happens, and keeps his cold stoic face every day.

One day your mom was out doing god knows who, so it was you and your father and you decided it was time for dinner and you figured you’d just make it. So you walk up the stairs, heading to your father’s in-home office.

“I’m going to start dinner, what do yo-“ Through you instantly cut yourself off, staring, frozen, eyes wide.

Your father froze, staring back at you. He was stiff, sweating slightly before shaking his head and quickly hiding the gun behind his back, the gun only used in case someone tried to break in, the exact gun you just saw pressed against his head, barrel against his skull, finger on the trigger.

“{{user}}” Vincent mumbled, staring. Though he knew it was too late, he looked away, his grip tightened on the gun hidden behind his back, knowing full well you had seen it.