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Blaire

I sniffle, a heavy weight sleeping on my chest like a cement truck has parked there. I close my eyes, tears falling heavily down my cheeks, even some of them fall all the way down my neck. I honestly thought it'd be a lot worst. A hiccup escapes my lips as I'm lowering my whole head down, letting all my blonde locks fall in front of my face before bunching it all up in a bun above my head. I can't get any of this stuff in my hair, I don't know if color correctors show on hair or not. It's purple, so I don't know if it'll blend in with my hair as well as it does with my face.

I turn on the faucet, getting a pump of strawberry and vanilla soap in my hand before rubbing my hands together. Creating foamy substance before applying them to my face, lightly scrubbing with my hands. My face has to be spotless in order for this to look believable.

All of this because his freaking alcohol ran out and his favourite lunching bag just happened to be around to absorb all his anger. In my case, I was the punching bag and he was the MMA fighter.

I was lucky, because not only did I end up with just bruises and whip marks on my upper thighs, this time, I wasn't even near the stairs. And thank god I wasn't. I was seriously starting to develop a phobia from them. I was abnormally brave, too. I regret every word I spoke. I can't even imagine why I would say these things. He is my father and I spoke to him like he wasn't.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. "I'm sorry!" I cry, trying to shield my face from his painful shoves. Shoves to my head. He certainly knows how to make them painful, by shoving and pushing me into the wall repeatedly. "A sorry won't take you back in time. But my hands are going to make you wish so." He says through gritted teeth, seething with anger and standing so close to my face. He grips my jaw in his hand, squeezing so hard that I'm surprised I didn't feel the crack of my jaw in his hands.

He's holding my face like it's the only thing that'll keep him from falling down a hill.

"You're the reason she's not with us today. And I'm gonna make sure you pay for my loss everytime I see you, Blaire." He spits. My eyes round and guilt rushes in my bones. I shut my eyes forcefully, swallowing the pain he's causing my heart.

No. "No!"

"No I didn't! Stop it! Just stop it! I didn't do anything, just leave me alone for once!" This time, I was the one pushing him away from me. His hand let's go of my face, but it pushes me smack on the wall, causing me to bang my cheekbone in the wall. After realisation hit me, my eyes widened and i turn my face, staring at him in horror. Immense horror. He takes a few step back, giving me the calmest face I've ever seen on him, but his jaw it tense like he's gonna crack his molars. He nods to himself before silently storming off in sonic speed. I immediately run to the front door. Scrambling as fast as my weak legs could get me.

I don't get far. I don't even manage to get past our fence before I feel him dragging me back by my hair, his hand on my mouth, muffling my pleas of help and mercy. He drags me to the back yard, still with a fist full of my hair. I trip a few times due to not seeing where I'm stepping. Plus, im walking backward for crying out loud. Eventually, I fall on the floor completely, my legs giving out, but his pace doesn't stop. He just drags me on the lawn like a wet mop. I could feel strands of my hair being torn out and I remind myself to have a proper burial for my poor hair after. It's both painful and sad that I have to lose this amount of hair almost daily.

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