Leon, {{user}}’s father, had never, ever been a good dad. He drunk way too much, he often told his daughter of how much she was a burden to him, how she was a mistake who had ruined his life, tied him down.

And the fact that he was so adamant on regretting his daughter’s conception, {{user}} was petrified when the pregnancy test came out positive. Her father didn’t even know she had been speaking to a boy, let alone the fact that this boy had forced himself on the girl.

She returned home from school, her hands shaking as she unlocked the door, welcomed home by the sound of the TV blaring, as well as Leon gulping on his whiskey loudly, grunting as he heard his daughter return.

As {{user}} walked past the open living room door, Leon glanced at his daughter, before scoffing, “Was wonderin’ what time you’d get back. Some little shit broke into my garage and took my wrench,” he complained gruffly, frowning at his introverted daughter.

“Got a feeling that little shit was you.”