'Dad...' I started but trailed off, hesitating but then deciding that I couldn't lose much anyways so I spoke up. 'I'm hungry' I squeaked out

'Then go get a job and get your own food' he grumbles without looking away from the TV

'I tried but... they said I was too young to work' I answered the truth. I went to some convenience store but they shooed me away saying a boy my age is too young for this. I only asked to stock the items, no one's too young for that... Right¿

He doesn't answer and keep flipping through channels while sipping his beer

'I'm really, really hungry' I tried again but it probably was better if I just kept my mouth shut. I knew he was about to snap at any moment now and yet, I pushed him

'Then you should've lie about your age!' He roared. Standing up from the couch, he made his way towards me. My heart thumped so loudly I wondered if he could hear it. My knees felt weak and I crouched down but he grabbed my upper arm, pulling me to up to my feet before dragging me infront of him

He was making his way towards the door and I immediately tried to stop. But he's a lot stronger than me so it doesn't work

'Dad! Please! No..' I cried out. I don't want to be outside, alone, in the soon to be darkness. I'm scared

He doesn't stop until were at the door and he grasps the handle, holding my arm tighter and I knew it was gonna bruise

'You keep complaining about being hungry. Then go work, earn money, and see how hard it is to feed yourself' he growls

'I won't say anything again, I promise' I whimpered, fisting my hands tightly in his shirt. But his heart's too cold or he's too drunk to care. But who am I lying to? Even sober, he doesn't give a shit about my existence

It always makes me wonder if I was actually a mistake, someone that was not meant to be, an accident, like he always says. Well, used to say. He doesn't say it anymore. Maybe because he thinks It's ingrated into me. In mind and memory. I'm starting to believe it and I wonder why. All those years he said that but only now I'm starting to believe it might actually be true

And so, removing my fists from his shirt, he opens the door, throws me out, and slams it close, locking it