I didn't actually ruin his life. At least that's what I think. He just needs an excuse to hate me. As if the whiskey on his breath wasn't enough. The smell always makes me sick.

Mom is quiet now. He'll be looking for me. I know it. In the corner of the attic stands a dusty old piano. I don't know how old it is or where it comes from because it was here when we moved in four years ago. But it is a good place to hide so I slide in behind it, my back to the wall.

The attic door swings open wide, allowing light into the room, reveiling the disturbed dust and the large dark frame of a beast in the doorway.
"Damn kid! I know you're up here. Bet'cha been snoop'n again aye kid?"

I press my back further into the wall. Become part of the wall. Disappear. I tell myself. Maybe this time he won't..

In my attempting to become one with the wall, my elbow connected with a key on the piano. Such an ominuous sound. The sound of my betrayal by a hunk of wood.

"I see ya kid," he says, lumbering towards me in his drunken swagger. I try to run, dodging behind him and making for the door but I trip on the trunk I, in my hurry, forgot to put back in it's place by the wall. Curse.

Dad walks towards me until he stands over me, creating a cold shadow.
"Just like a baby," he taunts. "So vunrable. So stupid."

The light creates caverns in the shadows of his narrow nose and inset eyes, giving him an eariy appearance. He has a cut above his left eyebrow which is streaming down the side of his face.