Trigger Warning: Assault, violence, and abuse are present in the chapter please stop reading if this chapter will cause any harm to you.

Jasmine sighs as she looks down at her “father”. His face was bruised and bloody…again. She didn’t bother waking him up just checked his pulse and once she was sure he was alive made her dinner. 

The sound of work boots on the linoleum floor brought Jasmine out of her thoughts. She looked to her father, watching him as he walked over to the fridge and grabbed a beer. He turned around and sighed as he looked at her, sitting down he opened his beer and took a big sip. “So, how was your day?” He asked spinning his bottle.

“Good. How's your face?” 

“Good…How’s your dinner?”

“Good. Where’s Charlotte?” Jasmine asked popping a piece of steak into her mouth. 

“Your Mom? She left. With that Justin guy.” He spat downing his beer.

“Mm. Good for her..”

“Yeah. So, where were you this afternoon?” Jasmine looked up at her dad unsure whether she should tell him…Why would he care I was giving a girl a ride home. Why does he care where I was? He probably wants something. Owes someone money, probably why his face is beat in.

“I’m not giving you money.”

“Why do you always go there? You know not everyone wants something from you.”

“You do.”

“No I don’t- And when have I ever asked you for money?”

“Since I started working so 5,” Jasmine says standing up with her dirty plate.

“What could I need money from a 5-year-old for?”

“Where all your money goes, drugs or beer.” Jasmine sighs rinsing her dish.

“I did not borrow money from you Jasmine nor did I buy drugs-”

“Your right you stole it and bought drugs with it because you're a drug addict.”

“I AM NOT A DRUG ADDICT.” He hollered jumping up from his chair so fast it fell.

“Then why’s your face so messed up? You say your drug dealer didn’t  want his money back and when you told him you didn’t have the money he beat the shit out of like the piece of shit you are, but that instead you what walked into a door.” Jasmine says turning to face her father.

“You don’t talk to your father that way.” 

“You're not my father Daniel. You’re just the sperm donor just like Charlotte is just the womb I spent 9 months in.”

“You don’t talk about your parents that way!” Daniel says raising his voice as he steps closer to Jasmine.

“Get out of my face. I can smell the alcohol on your breath and it's disgusting.” Suddenly Daniel raises his hand and his fist collides with Jasmine's face. Daniel steps back in shock looking down at his knuckles then at his daughter. For a while, they don’t say anything allowing the situation to sink in. “Jasmine….I’m so sorry-” Suddenly he can’t speak and his head on the floor while Jasmine stands above him with her fist raised and her knuckles bloody. “Jasmine…you punched me.” She didn’t say anything as she got down onto her knee and began punching him over and over again. It was only when she realized he was unconscious that she stopped. She shuddered as the adrenaline hit her in waves. She stood up trying to catch her breath as she grabbed towels out of the hall closet, choking on the air in her lunges as she put pressure on the bleeding gash on his face. “Dad. Dad, wake up.” Nothing. He didn’t respond. “Shit.”

The EMT sat quietly beside her. Unsure whether she should say anything about the bruise starting to form on the teenager's cheek. “Do you want that to be looked at?” Jasmine looked at her confused. “The..bruise.”

“Oh..No. Just a black eye.” Jasmine mumbled turning forward.

….

“You know you don’t have to be scared to report him. We will protect you-”

“From?”

“From…from him.” the EMT mumbled, clearly confused.

“He can’t hurt me.”

“Yeah, he can. He gave you a black eye-”

“Yeah. But look at what I did to him. Trust me, he won’t try anything. To scared to.”

“But-” Jasmine looked at her reassuringly, the EMT driver sighed, “We still have to tell social services.”

“I know. It’s your job.”

“You’ll have to wait here.” the nurse says politely.

“Thank you,” Jasmine mumbled sitting down. It would be hours before the social worker would be here and God only knows how long it will take them to stitch up her Dad. Might as well take a nap.

“Jasmine?” the angelic voice woke her from her dream. The voice sounded familiar. Jasmine opened her eyes looking for the source of the voice. Her eyes looked to see a woman again familiar. Ah, who was she? I know I just met her…Taylor’s mom? Why is she here? 

“Sorry, you seemed like you were having a bad dream.” Well if you could call it a dream, it was more of a nightmare. Most of her dreams were nightmares. 

“Uh..yeah. Uh, what are you doing here?” Jasmine asked sitting up, rubbing her head her eyes went down to the clipboard in the older woman’s hands. Ah, the famous clipboard. Mamma bears a social worker. Great. “You're the social worker,” Jasmine answered her own question before the older woman could answer.

Mamma bear chuckled sadly, “Yeah…I am.” Jasmine nodded, her face showing her disdain. “I’m sorry Jasmine…If I had known I wouldn’t have let you go home-”

“Don’t. Just ask me the stupid questions.” Jasmine grumbled.

“Jasmine. I’m just trying to help-”

“He hasn’t manipulated me.”

Mamma Bear sighed, “You can stay at my house tonight. You can borrow some of Taylor’s clothes.”

“I can’t, he needs me,” Jasmine answered, rubbing her face with her hands.

“No, he doesn’t he’s a grown man-”

“With a drinking problem who doesn’t know how to take care of himself.”

“Jasmine. Please, it's bad this time-

“But it could be worse next time. Yeah, I know. Can we please get to the questions?”