Around midnight I heard my father scream, and instantly knew
he hadn’t listened to me. My mom and I
found him in his study, his head slammed through the large window that faced
the backyard, a large piece of glass piercing his throat. Other shards of glass were shoved in his
stomach and face.
His tablet was on the floor next to his favorite chair, the
screen cracked but still on.
I didn’t scream, I didn’t cry, I just walked over and
stopped the ever living shit out of it until it sparked and fizzled under my
heel.
My mom was crying, and I limped to her, large chunks of
glass embedded in my heel keeping me from making smooth steps.
I didn’t even feel the pain.
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