I slept in my own room, whenever I woke up or heard him, I always pretend to sleep. I hate talking to him whenever he is drunk. Then, he started to hit me with his belt, the bruise turned into scars. And it happens over and over again. What happen to my happy-go-lucky dad?

                My alarm woke me up; I stood up and walked to the bathroom. I can hear dad stumbling around the apartment, yelling and dropping things. "Where is my sock?"

                Oh man. Not again. I walked to my door when suddenly the door swung open and hit hard on my face. "Ouch," I clutch on my bleeding nose. "Where did you put my socks? I'm late." dad yelled, not even takes any chance to look at her daughter, who he just hurt.

                "Make sure this house is clean when I get back." he cried, stomped out the door, leaving the door open. I miss my old dad. I never imagine this could happen; I used to be proud to be his daughter. But now, I even pretend that I don't know him.

                I quickly searched for cotton bud to stop my blood flows. Where the heck is that cotton when I need it?  I walked past the living room, what the---

                There, stood a tall young man before the door that dad just left it opened, staring at me. "Wha-what are you looking at?" I grunted, closing the door, pressing on my bleeding nose. SLAM!

                What a bad morning. I jumped on the couch, stuck cotton in my nose. "Ouch," I looked down at my leg, with bruises all over; I can't even recognize my own pair of leg. Sometime, I had enough of dad hitting, bullying me. I've even saved up some money, made a plan, and will be gone from dad's sight one day. That, I assure you, WILL happen.