Love has no definition....

Chapter One

Chapter One

I heard a crash downstairs .... I knew it was him.

I closed my eyes, trying to block it out wishing and hoping it was just a nightmare....

That's when I heard another crash, followed by a series of curse words.

I rolled over in my bed looking at the clock on my bedside locker, 1am flashed back at me.

He was home early, he usually came back around 3 or 4am.

It would give me enough time to get a bit of sleep before he came home.

I rolled out of bed, ah well, it wasn't like I was getting much sleep anyways.

I pulled on one of my many black hoodies and cautiously unlocked my bedroom door, slowly making my way downstairs.

I could see the front door wide open with bits of glass on the floor along with his jacket that had specks of blood on it.

"f*cking hell" I heard him shout from the kitchen.

I stepped over the broken glass on the floor and made my way down the hall to the kitchen. The door was slightly ajar, so I peeked my head in to see the first aid kit out on the counter, while he fidgeted with the bandages.

I could see he was drunk, but not as drunk as usual.

I knew he wouldn't hurt me tonight. I ran my hand over the bruise on my stomach I got a few nights ago, but he was overly drunk then, he couldn't controle his actions, I kept on telling myself.

I cautiously stepped inside the kitchen, he didn't notice me until I put my hand on his, stopping him from hurting himself any further.

I took the roll of bandages from him, gently wrapping it around his hand.

He had badly hurt himself, but nothing some well needed sleep couldn't fix.

I took the broken vodka bottle and put it in the sink, I'd take care of it in the morning.

When I turned back around I saw him leaning against the counter with his head in his hands looking defeated and vulnerable. In some ways I felt sorry for him, but he brought this on himself. No one made him drink .... No one put those drugs in his hands and told him to take them. He made the choice to do all these things, then he has to suffer the consequences.

"maybe you should get some sleep...." I said softly leaving it linger in the awkward silence between us.

"why would you care?!" he replyed roughly, his strong accent coming through.

I always wondered myself why I did this every night, but I always came back to the same conclusion....

I slowly walked over to him placing my hand on his upper back "come on, let's get you to bed...."

He muttered something incoherent in response but still complied with my request.

I slowly led him out into the hall and up the stairs.

I brought him into his room, laying him down on his bed and slipping off his shoes and socks.

I pulled the duvet over him and tucked him in.

I watched as he closed his eyes and turned over onto his side. I quietly went to the bathroom, attached to his room and filled a glass of water, grabbing two panadol and setting them on his bedside table.

I leant down to give him a kiss on the cheek whispering "because I love you.... I only do it because I love you daddy ...." I'm sure he didn't hear me as I heard his soft snores.

I felt tears pricking at the edge of my eyes threatening to fall, but no, not today....

I quickly and quietly slipped out of the room, closing the door behind me.

I left a big breath out that I didn't even know I was holding in.

I went back to the safety of my room, locking the door just incase, then burying myself in the duvet on my bed.

Closing my eyes shut tightly, trying to escape for a little while.

I did it because I love him.... He's my Dad.... And I only do it because I love him....

My name is Megan Clarke and I live Here in the suburbs of Cork, Ireland, with my alcoholic and drug addict of a Father....

My Mum died along with my little brother during child birth 10 years ago when I was 7 .... My Dad never got over it, that's why he's like this ....

All people ever tell me is how much I look and sound like her, I know that that should be a good thing since she was an Irish black haired blue eyed beauty who had a heart of gold ....

But to me, it was a way of life rubbing it in my face that my Mother was dead .... And there was nothing I could do or could've done about it ....

I may not have a perfect life .... But it was ok .. I was ok .. We were ok ....

My name is Megan Clarke ....

And this is my story ....

Authors note:

Ok LADZ this is my 1st book up here so don't be too harsh pleasssse

Just to say the main character may have the same name as me but our lives are nothing alike

And everything in this is under copyright

@berry2012

So please don't try to copy it

Cheers,

Megz xx

P.S. I'm only gonna continue if people like it so give me some feedback please <3 I appreciate it

So please vote, comment and fan!!!! xx