Broken ☇ Chris Manawa / FTWD (Discontinued)

1.

I jolted up from my bed  the moment I heard the door slam and followed by glass cracking. Automatically knowing that it was my dad coming back home after wasting his time at a bar. I turned to my bedside table to look at the time and it was 12:41am. It was a school night and yet my father is out there ruining my solid eight hours of sleep.

I cautiously went down the steps while slipping on my slippers so that I do not get hurt again by the shattered glass that has probably sprawled all over the floor.

There was not even a single night that my Dad comes back home sober. I would not say that he's a bad dad , he has provided me a shelter which I call home and pretty much, that's it.

He's either just drinking his money away or working his ass off. The only time he comes home is to sleep or if he is sober enough to realize what he is doing , I'll probably get a slap or two for being a useless daughter.

"What are you waiting for huh? The queen to come and sweep this mess?" My dad slurred his words as he spoke to me.

"I'm sorry, I'll clear this up" I apologized to him as I walked around the house carefully.

I grabbed a broom and the dustpan to sweep away the broken glasses and trying my best not to leave any broken pieces behind so that I do not get slapped for not doing a proper job.

Once I was clear that I did a fair job , I threw away the rubbish and walked over to see my dad passed out on the couch. I had to bring him back to his room or else he would not like it and be ready to lecture me in the morning for not being a responsible daughter.

"Dad" I tapped him slowly trying to wake him up a little so that it would be easier for me to lift him up and bring him to his room. "Dad please wake up!" I said while trying to lift his head out of the couch. "Dad" I said again , but this time I was met with a slap on my face. My cheeks burned by the sudden contact, causing me to tear up due to concealing the pain.

"I'm sleeping you bitch, how many times do I have to tell you?" My dad screamed at me. That did not stop me as I still continued to lift him off from the couch and after a few attempts, I was able to.

The journey from the couch to his room was filled with my dad shouting profanities at me. Once I placed him on his bed, I pulled up the blanket so that he was comfortable. Once I felt that everything was okay, I slowly walked out of the room and trying my best to not make any noise to wake my dad up.

The moment I reached my room, I closed my door and made my way to my bed and sat on it grabbing my pillow and hugging it to comfort me. Tears starts pouring out of my eyes and rolling down my cheeks as I felt horrible. It's been years since I heard anything positive coming out of my dad's mouth. It hurts me to think that I was the cause for this.

I was ten years old when my mum died due to a brutal car accident which I was in too. But, I was the only one who managed to survive. Since then , my dad blamed me for my mum's death. There's not even a single day that he does not criticize me or physically hurt me.

Bruises everywhere. Hands, arms, legs and even my face. People and teachers in school have noticed but I brushed it away saying that I fell while doing something. Most of them believed my excuse, but one of them still wouldn't believe me. Chris Manawa - also known as my best friend.

Chris and I have been friends since the age of 8. We've literally grown up together, skipping classes together, pranking people we hated and talking about everything. As we spent most of the time together, he knew everything about me, whenever I was lying or hurt. So it was hard when I try to stay away from this topic, or when he sees some kind of scar on me.