Father, I Hate You

I sat on the branch of a fallen tree outside my house. I lit a cigarette and inhaled the sweet smell. It soothed my soul. I could hear him scream my name at the top of his voice inside. I still remember the last time he chastised me for no reason. I was hiding in my mother’s arms. She tried to protect me from the drunken monster. He tore me away from her, away from her fortification. He took off his belt and whipped it at my back continuously. In pain and vain, I screamed. I cried. Mother cried. She threw herself at my back - defending me from those burning lashes. I took that as a chance to escape him. He screamed after me. I ran. I didn’t look back. All I cared, at that time, was to run away. Now, I only try to stay out of his sight. I can hear him scream at my mother again. It's about me. That monster, he's drunk again. I sighed with disappointment. Father, I hate you.

Author's Note

This is completely a work of fiction. My father is a wonderful person and fun to be with. This was written for a contest, taking the prompt of parental abuse in mind and it had to be one paragraph, on this website StoryWrite. Didn't win, but it had a lot of good reviews. Let me know your views as well. Thanks for reading it.