Tangled Love

Walking home reluctantly, I turn the corner and take the chance to study our house. It isn't a home anymore. The front garden once full of beautiful blooming flowers that my father cherished is now strewn with rubbish and litter. I turn the key into the door and slowly push it open, trying to stop the annoying creak. The last thing I want is to wake the monster.

I know Trevor will be fast asleep in the living room by now. . . he has the same routine every day. I can hear his heavy breathing and loud snores before I even have a chance to step a foot inside. I imagine him snorting and rolling around in thick mud just like a pig and snigger, slapping a hand over my mouth.

He definitely resembles a pig with his pink bald head and round face complete with a stubby nose. I never understood why Mum is attracted to him...

Maybe it was his bank balance.

Trevor manages his own building site which was once successful but lately his business took a turn for the worse. Instead of doing something about it, he wallowed in his own self pity by drinking all day. Lucky me. Sometimes he'll get a large paying contract which means he's away from the house for a few weeks at a time which is absolute bliss to my ears. I'd eventually begin to relax and the nightmares would be less frequent but then he'd be back, wanting to blow off steam. . .

 his

an attempt to protect her. No child should ever witness their mother being beaten by a red faced stranger. Seeing your mum cry out in pain and whimper in fear causes even the quietest of children to protect their family. Trevor hadn't

it's his attitude. I despise violent people, especially the ones who prey on the weak and vulnerable. Trevor has always been a coward who preys on the weak. I know what you're thinking.

police, they can keep me safe.

you're wrong.

constantly remind me of his police officer acquaintances who were always

you tell anyone, I'll know straight away." He'd sneer in my face, eyes shining brightly from my torture. "And then,

this hell hole until I turn eighteen. I'll have no money, no family and no roof over my head but that's better than the constant

of smoke instantly smacks me in the face causing me to gag. I take a step towards the stairs, quietly creeping past the door before making a run for it.

am I letting that psycho have