°rooftop° | •yoonmin•

:Part 6:

⚠️WARNING: this chapter contains violence 

i dragged my body up the concrete stairs to my house. i stand in silence in front of the door, taking shallow breathes to prepare for what i knew was about to happen.

the doorknob was cold beneath my palm.

that was the last coherent thought i formed before the screaming started. i didn't pay as much attention to his words as i did his actions, his tone a voice. his voice was filled with rage, angry, insanity. i watched as he picked up one of his empty beer bottles.

i felt completely and utterly useless, i couldn't move- i felt paralyzed

i couldn't run, it would make the situation worse when i ultimately had to return later. and i certainly couldn't fight back, my father stood at 6'2 and weighed at least twice as much as me, i would never win.
the beating was inevitable.

"what took you so long?! you should've been back an hour ago?! huh? why aren't you speaking bitch?!"

i cowered against the wall of the living room, willing myself to blink back awaiting tears, "there was a long line at the store, sir." 

he slowly lifted up his arm, glass bottle still in hand. and with all his might he chucked the bottle straight at my head.

with a little shriek, i duck, covering my head with my hands. the sound of glass shattering resonates through the air, such a devastating noise. i feel a sharp pain in several places in my arms and back, forcing tears to drip down my cheeks. the fire from earlier seeped back into my body, though this time it sourced from my arms.

suddenly, i ran. sprinting fast than i ever have to my room, slamming and locking the door behind me. immediately afterward i heard heavy pounding steps rush throughout the house. then everything went silent. the only noise to be heard was my heavy breathing resonating throughout the room. 

red hot, searing pain seep through my body, blackness poking at my vision.

 god, i hate this- it's a never-ending cycle with him, a living hell. 

i leaned against the side of my bed, resting my head on the soft duvet. as i sit, staring at the ceiling, blackness overtakes my vision. 

from the living room, i hear curses and grunts and things being thrown at the wall. he was angered more at my escape, like a hunter who had just lost his prey.

slowly the blackness took more of my vision and soon i was no longer conscious.