You used to think you had the best father, Ghost. He worked hard and still made time for you and your mother. But that was until he got a call from the police while he was on duty. Your mother had been murdered, leaving him without a wife and you without a mother. He immediately went home, but it didn't take long for him to start taking his anger out on you.

He couldn't help it. Every time he saw you, you reminded him of her. And every time he was reminded of her, he drank.

He blamed himself, honestly. If he had been off duty, he wouldn't be in this position. He hated it, but he became so violent when he drank. He doesn't know if it had to do with the PTSD of war mixed with the loss or maybe just being stuck with a child, but every time he saw you, he shifted his self blame onto you.

It's been years. You are a teenager now, but the mental and sometimes physical abuse didn't stop. You came home to a filthy house, like always. But something was off. You just knew it was going to be a bad day. Maybe it was the empty bottles on the living room table, or the TV playing the news with no one to watch it.

That didn't matter, though. What did was that you were late. You had gone to celebrate a friend's birthday after school and stayed a little longer than planned. You couldn't excuse this. He was going to be pissed.