My father slams her against the wall and tightens his grip on her neck until her face turns a dark purple, his fist in the air as he looks back to see the 3 little faces of his deeply scared and hurt children watching his every move. Our tears creating puddles on the floor while my father's eyes filled the room with hate and anger. My face burning as hot as a volcano bursting with lava. All I can feel is anger as I thirst for revenge. It starts to feel like I'm watching my mother fade in slow motion, my heart pounding so hard that it could burst any second now. My breath sharp between my lungs and my heart beat keeps pounding faster and faster by the minute. Watching my siblings jumping up and down with fear, screaming at the top of our lungs for him to stop and just leave her alone. Father eventually lowers his fist and slowly untightens the hand wrapped around mother's neck. He turns and loses his balance as he stumbles into the wall to leave as me and my siblings run to mother and hug her so hard we could almost put her broken pieces back together if we hugged tightly enough. He had then gone up to his bedroom and locked mother out so she would have to sleep on the couch. I admit, I was too scared to sleep upstairs in my room that night so we all slept in the living room together, but that was just the start.

Midnight rolls through and I had still been awake. I couldn't stop thinking about the way he had his hands on her, the only woman who loved him through everything he had been through, the only one who was there for him even when he had nothing but an empty wallet. It angered me and kept me thinking about how much I wanted him to just disappear so the rest of us could live in peace without fearing for our lives every minute we are near him. I know mother needs him, even after how much he's hurt her. He still provides for us and pays the bills. Mother stays with him for the sake of us, her children. I just can't let her do this to herself. I don't want to see her suffer anymore. I want revenge to come to him and only him. I wish him the worst of the worst but wishing will not get the job done. I'll have to do it myself, no matter the consequences. I quietly got up and made my way into the kitchen looking for the sharpest object I could find. I opened the drawer where my mother stores the cutting knives. My eyes land on a shiny silver knife with a dark red handle perfect for grip. My heart beating fast as the knife glistens under the bright flashlight of my phone. I grab the handle and quietly close the drawer as I head down the hall and up the stairs. My whole life I've lived in this house and I've memorized which stairs creak when you step on them, it feels like I'm in a video game as I go up the stairs skipping steps at a time while holding the knife in one hand. I turn off the flashlight as soon as I get to the top and grab the spare key to my parents ́ bedroom that I had hidden in my room in case of any emergency. I tiptoe down the hall and start to push the key in and turn it as quietly as I can. I open the door slowly and inch my way into the room. That was when I saw him, laying there passed out with vomit all over the floor and bed. Although I was completely used to seeing him like this I could never get used to the smell of vomit. I gag each time, but contain myself as I maneuver my way passed the puddles of vomit and stand over him. Even just watching him sleep made me angry. I took a deep breath and put both hands on the knife as I raised it high up above my head and started to stab him with all the strength I could pull together. Each time deeper and deeper as blood gushed through him like a broken water pipe. The way the blood splattered on my face made me feel like more of a man than my father had ever been, my mouth tasted like metal as I took a step back from the body. I enjoyed this more and more by the second, seeing him in pain was almost relieving. Just watching him bleed out of control and eventually seeing him no longer breathe was like a weight being lifted off of my shoulders. I wanted to keep stabbing him until I felt satisfied but I just couldn't feel that feeling. I felt broken inside. I felt so damaged by the fact that I had never been loved by my own father. He was taken by the drugs and alcohol when I was just a young kid. He was stuck in the void of it all, and I just knew we would never have him back again. He loved his drugs more than he had ever loved us. All I wanted was to have a dad. A dad who could take me out to ball games and teach me how to be a true man, but all I got out of him was violence to the point where I would wake up in my own urine. None of that matters now. What matters is that he is gone, we have nothing left to fear anymore. We are no longer in danger. I finally saved us, Mom.