You

My face is red and bruising and my dignity fell to the floor with me when Father struck me again. Mother was late from work and I didn't cook him what he wanted for dinner. He hadn't told me what he wanted -he had passed out on the couch- but I was punished for it nonetheless.

The scariest part about all of this is that I know I deserved this. I should know by now what my father wants for dinner, shouldn't I? I should know him better. Maybe I should spend more time with him, then maybe I'll learn something. Until then, I'll accept my punishment with dignity.

The essence crept up like a whisper and somehow it told me that I was wrong about this. It hugged me and lead me to my bed, letting me drift off to sleep feeling a little less lonely.