• She sits, curled up in hiding, sobbing on the closet floor. The yelling, the screaming. It is all so hard to handle. What else is there to do? Confronting it herself would lead in utter failure. Shunning her family, along with herself, is the only way out. Out of this hell of a house, town, world. Away from it all.
    Crash, goes a beer bottle to the ground. Daddy has gotten so angry, she thinks. She wants so badly to see what's going on, but yet, she does not know what will happen. So she continues to sit.
    Smash! The sound of glass breaking. Then it's heard again, and two times more. What in the world is going on out there... She gets out of the closet door, goes toward the door to the living room. Her attention was immediately drawn away, to the window. She saw lights. She saw their color shine against the window. Blue, red. She went towards the window. She saw the police, and her father there beside them. He pointed to her immediatley. What were they talking about, that involved her? She wanted to know, but did not want to interfere. She stood by, watched.
    The policemen walked towards the door. Father got into his large, white truck. She started to remember when he first got that truck of his. He smiled boldly at her, and pointed out the names of her and her sister, Fallon, painted on it. "I'm here for you, kid," he would always say. But if he was, then why would he have taken his first sip of the dreaded alchool? Why would he cause so much havoc amongst our family?
    There was a knock at the door. The same two policemen that she saw stomped in. She looked them up and down, and noticed that they did not look as heroic as in the animated shows that she watched. One was rather overweight, and the other had wrinkles and dark circles under his eyes. Not heroic at all, at least in her standards.
    They started to ask her questions. If she was alright, how much she loved her mother and father. She did not answer, only told them simply to go away. They smiled, and nonchalantly walked out of the room.
    Then, it was all over. The cars pulled away, dad was gone, and mother seemed to quiet down. So, it was time to walk out to investigate. The first thing she saw was glass, and lots of it. She first observed her parents room. The dresser mirror was broken. She looked towards the bed. The sheets were wet, and reeked of alchohol. Then, she walked into the bathroom. Another broken mirror, and broken shower doors, also. Then, last, the living room. A broken television, with a hammer on the floor, next to the piled up glass. That must have been what was used for the deed, she thought.
    Then, she found her mother. Sprawled out on the couch, matted hair, bawling like a child. Once she had saw her daughter, she ran to her, cradling her in her arms. Although her whispered words were hardly audible, the daughter made them out. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry..."
    But, the daughter didn't even cry. Because, she knew more than her mother. She knew that this was not the worst that happened in the household. But, who could honestly stop it? Living with it was all that could be done. And she will turn out okay. She knows she will.