Jake Pitts is my father?

People change, some more than others

After I left Rachel's house, I slowly dragged myself towards home. A foreboding feeling ate away at my core, I knew when I got home things would be awful. I anticipated a lot of screaming, shouting and slamming doors. I took out my phone and checked my messages, I had my phone on silent so I didn't hear anything. When I looked at all of the missed messages from my dad, I began to get short of breath and began to sweat profusely. He had left me 15 voicemails, I only listened to 1 of them, I figured they all had to be the same. The messages were pretty similar as well, they consisted of everyones favorite four letter word and various threats of "death" and "severe punishment". I didn't really care about the punishment, but more about our relationship becoming more distant. After what felt like an eternity of walking, I finally made it to my house. I stopped at the end of the driveway and stared at my impending doom. There was no hope, I was dead when I walked in there.

I opened the door slowly, hoping no one would notice me. But, sadly, my dad, Ella, and Aloise were seated at the kitchen table. Ella had her arms wrapped around Aloise and was rubbing her back. My dad was standing over both of them with one arm around Ella and the other around Aloise. They looked like a perfect little family, and I was the one ruining it all for them. I started to turn around and walk out the door, but my dad noticed me and called me back inside.

"XANA! Get back here, now!" I slowly turned around, staring at my shoes.

He grabbed me and threw me inside the house, I fell flat on my face.

"JAKE! This is not going to help! You're hurting your own daughter!" Ella screamed from the kitchen table, I was astonished that she was standing up for me when I had beaten the living shit out of her daughter.

"Just stay out of it! She's my daughter and I'll raise her how I want!" He moved closer to me and lifted me up by my hair and dragged me up the stairs.

I could smell the alcohol on his breath, clearly he had been drinking. That terrified me, who knew what he would do?

He threw me into my bedroom and slammed the door behind him.

"I don't know what the hell your problem is, but listen here you little shit," he pointed at me and staggered a bit, I thought he was going to fall over "You are worthless! What you did today....what you did was terrible. No, that doesn't even BEGIN to describe what you did, I can't believe you,"

I couldn't contain myself and I began to sob uncontrollably. I didn't know what he would do to me.

"STOP CRYING!" he said as he brought down a hand across my face, and another, and another.

When he finally finished, there was a huge red imprint from his hand on my face.

"Why?" I whispered, my mouth barely making a sound.

"Because....you deserved this," he turned and walked out of my room.

The rest of the night I sat in the fetal position, rocking back and forth while crying. I muttered phrases only audible and sensical to me. The pain welling inside of me was too much for me to take....