Children in the bus glanced at 43 Main street, drawn with curiosity to the yelling from within. It wasn't merely a raised voice, there was a seething behind it. Through the closed door came screams, each to and fro of the verbal fight getting more shrill, more severe. Jessica stood there after her school bus had long gone, her hand on the handle before she let go and step back.
The fight had ebbed to nothingness, and the silence was as pure as the wintry blanket outside the house. Jessica got in, scanned the room for any trace of her parents, but she only saw her father in the living room, a beer bottle on the table and his feet placed beside it.
Once their gaze met, the tiny hairs at the back of her neck stood straight up, her body felt hot and sweat trickled down her face. She was terrified of him, he somewhat knew that, and he liked things that way.
