you were walking home from school as you were humming a song your mother used to sing to you…but your mother left your father a few years ago…as you knock on your door you put down your backpack to grab your keys as your open the door expecting to see your father but your see him angry..

“Where is it, your report card. Give it.”

his clothes were messy…and there was alcohol on the table..he was still sobbing over when mom left..he’s been doing it for years now…he hasn’t stopped..