It's the year 1982, and I was awoken by a series of raucous cacophony coming from the front door. However, what followed was worse... The sound of harsh footsteps ascended from the stairs outside my bedroom. Before I could get out of bed, the door flung open, making a harsh grating sound as it hit the edge of my tableside. My father walked in, his eyes swollen, and the rags he wore as clothes- somehow even more battered. The empty beer bottle was still in his grasp, covered with the grim of his hands. His words were unbalanced and slurred as he slowly moved towards me. I knew if I dared to flinch at his movement, he would strike. So I sat still on the bed, breathing heavily. "F-Father.." I began, but before I could finish my sentence, he aggressively grasped the edge of my collar and threw me onto the wooden floorboards of my room. I cried out as the corner of my desk made a deep incision on my knee. "Who allowed you to say my name?" my Father bellowed, and bound my wrists. "Where's your mother?"

I was bewildered. Without thinking, I said, "She's not here, Father. You killed her."

My Father looked back at me, his expression darkening. Without hesitation, he lifted his palm and striked my left cheek. I winced but he silenced me by placing his finger on my lips.

He whispered, "I never want to hear those words come out of your mouth again, or I will make sure you don't have a mouth to use next time, got it?" I nodded. "You know you have to be punished, don't you?" he purred, a stretched smile on his face. I nodded again, this time shuddering at his words.

'Smack, smack.'

Every burning incision of his belt, the heaviness of his fists...it was torture. He struck me again. And again. And again. My Father suddenly stopped and stared at me. I looked back at him choking on tears. "Do you want to know what it felt like, Ryder?" he asked.

I wiped my tears, trying to catch my breath.. "W-What do you mean?"

"Stabbing your mother. Wanna know how it felt?" he said, not once breaking eye contact.

My eyes widened as I felt an array of anger sweep over me.

"Well..." he started, "She was a real one, your mother."

Anger.

"Her screams were music to my ears." he continued, chuckling shamelessly.

I wanted to kill him.

"When I stabbed her, it felt so amazi-"

I couldn't take it anymore.

I kicked Father in the stomach, escaping from his loosened grip. Stumbling out from under his torso, I hurried down the stairs, struggling to breath. I couldn't walk properly because of the wounds, and my head was throbbing constantly.

But that wasn't important.

I heard my Father yell furiously, storming down the stairs. "Oh, Ryder...Come out now or I'll seriously kill you."

I kept silent, rushing into the kitchen.

"Don't say I didn't warn you, Ryder." he muttered.

I grabbed the sharpest knife I could find. Father entered the room, a menacing smile stretched across his face.

He walked towards me.

Tears blurring my vision, I waved the knife around violently, begging him to stay back. But it was no use. He continued to creep forwards, ignoring my desperate cries.

'Slice'

I still remember the feeling of the knife sliding effortlessly into his flesh. I did it. I stabbed him directly in his chest. He collapsed to the ground, blood gushing out of the wound.

I looked at him in pure disgust.

Everything he had done to me. The various ways he had made me suffer. It had come to me now, that he deserved a painful death. And the one to give him that death, would be me. The only person who had suffered his wrath for so long; The only person who had been confined in this house and abused, almost everyday.

I would be the person to give him a painful death worth remembering.

I knelt down on top of him, and slowly wrapped my hands around his neck. I saw as his eyes widened, he realised what my intentions were.

I applied more pressure.

He clenched his teeth, his whole body quivering and shaking as I suffocated him. He was in so much agony. So much that his muscles refused to work. His mind refused to cooperate. I saw his eyes, the eyes which were once intimidating and cold, now begging for my mercy. The ragged breathing that turned into a desperate wheeze- he lay entirely still, his body still under mine. I got up and stared at the body beneath my feet. He was dead. I had killed him.

I was still frozen, trying to process the events that had taken place. Before I even had time to move the doorbell suddenly rang.

'Ding dong'

I refused to answer. But then it rang again. And again. "Who is it?" I asked.

"It's Marius Irene, your neighbour. I just moved into unit 302? Well I heard noises and I was wondering if everything was fi-"

"Everythings fine, me and Father were just playing poker." I snapped.

"Well... can I speak to your father? Just a quick word?"

"He's on a call." I said.

"That's alright, I can wait. Can I come inside?" She asked.

"No- Uh, I mean sure." 'Crap, I messed up' I thought.

I sighed and trudged towards the door.

'Creeaak...'

I opened the door only slightly and peered through to see Marius standing there. She was a beautiful girl. Young teenager, brown hair and eyes as blue as the ocean.

"Hello there!" she said, smiling contently.

"Hello..."

"Can I come in?" she asked, gesturing towards the door I was blocking.

"I don't know. My dad's not home right now so if you can leave and come back late-" I was interrupted.

"I thought you said he was on a call?..." she questioned, slightly puzzled, "Just let me in, I won't bite."

"I really can't." I said.

She gave a suspicious look. Dang, I had to act quick before-

Marius barged through, pushing the door open. How was she so strong? I tried holding the door back but it was no use. She was in the house. "Not so hard now, is it?" she said.

But then I noticed as she suddenly stopped breathing, her eyes fixed behind me.

She examined the blood scattered and spread across the dirty walls, leaking through the kitchen floorboards. Then she looked over my shoulder to see my Father's lifeless corpse lie in a pool of blood behind me. I saw her slowly step back in fear, and reach out for her phone. She then looked at me, her hands shaking while she bought them up to her slightly parted lips. "Did you do this?..." She asked, her breath trembling.

I nodded.