That night I wished upon a star. I wish I could meet my life savers, One Direction. I heard the door slam from downstairs. I quickly turned the light off and jumped into bed, pretending to be asleep. I heard heavy footsteps coming up the stairs, I knew his was drunk. I could practically smell the alcohol the minute he approached the flat. This was going to end badly. He threw my bedroom door open and switched on the light.
"Get the fuck up," he yelled, kicking me. I leaped out of bed, still fully clothed.
"Why the fuck are you wearing clothes in bed?" He slapped me round the face. "You should've died instead of her!" My heart raced as I saw my dad's knuckles rearing towards my face to hit me yet another time. You may think this is cruel but I deserved it, disobeying my dad's orders is a dreadful thing to do and I deserved everything I got.
He after he yelled some more abuse at me and hit me some more, he threw me on the bed and kicked me. "Worthless piece of shit," he spat before stumbling out. This was nothing, I was let off easy. But I had to get out, what would happen if I did escape? Would he come after me? What would I do? Be homeless? Tell the police? I didn't know...