Chapter 19

I walk into my house, drop my bag on the floor and take a deep breath, "Is that you, sweetheart?" I hear him call.

"Yeah," I call back and walk into the kitchen to see him sitting at the table with his work in front of him. He looks up at me, gives me a big smile, and then goes back to looking at the sheets before him.

"Did you have a good time shopping?"

"Yeah,"

"Buy anything nice?"

"I bought some loungewear+ and some makeup," I lie. Mr Peters bought me the loungewear, and Melanie bought me the makeup. I sit at the other side of the table and watch him a little. "I need to talk to you," I say quietly.

"What about sweets?" he asks, still looking through his papers.

"Urm...I'll talk to you after I've had a shower and changed," I state. He looks up at me, a little worried. "That way, you've got time to finish what you're doing," I say; he chuckles and shakes his head.

"I swear you think I'm a workaholic," he states. I smile slightly and walk off to my room to get a shower.

**Hour Later**

I walk downstairs and into the living room to see my dad sitting in the living room looking at his iPad. I sit down on the same couch but a space away from him. He closes his Ipad and leans back and turns his gaze to me. He looks worried.

"Are you ok sweetheart?" he asks. I nod slightly and look down a little. He lets out a frustrated sigh. "Is it you and Tyler? Have you broken up?" I nod slightly. He sighs, leans forward and puts his hand on my hand. "If he hurt you. I will kill him." I shake my head a little.

"It's nothing to do with him, Dad," I look up at him and look into the green eyes I have inherited. "It's you," I say quietly. He gives me a confused look. "You never remember, so I'm expecting you to be confused, but you don't act yourself," he moves forward so he is now fully sitting next to me. "I'm scared of you, Dad," I state.

"What? Why?" he asks.

"You hit me," I say quietly and turn my head away from him as I slowly start to cry. "Nearly every day, you beat me, and every morning, I wake up to find you don't even remember," his hand leaves mine, and I reach down for the face wipes that are under the table and open them. I pull one out and slowly start to take my make-up off.

"You ask me every few weeks why I wear so much makeup and why I wear it around the house when no one is going to see me," I say all this while wiping it all off and wiping my tears away. "This is why," I say and turn to look at him.

His eyes widen, and then he looks down at his hands. He clenches his fists, gets up, and walks out of the living room. I can hear him kicking what sounds like the kitchen's lower cupboards; I gulp down a lump in my throat and slowly stand up.

I walk to the kitchen door frame and stand leaning against the frame. He kicks a kitchen cupboard, holds his head, and falls to his knees. I have never seen him so upset since

mom died. I could make him feel worse and tell him that he has also taken my virginity, but I don’t think he’ll be able to handle that.

"I'm sorry," I say quietly.

"What!?" he says, turning to look at me. He is crying, which takes me a little by surprise. "Don't you dare say you're sorry to me, sweetheart? You have nothing to be sorry about. I should be sorry," he states and stands up. He walks over to me and stands about half a meter from me.

"You need help," I say quietly.

"I know," he says in the same quiet tone. Then there is silence. It is so silent a pin dropping would sound like a thunderbolt.

He then breaks the awkward silence. "How many times?" he asks

"I don't count," I say a little coldly. I have never spoken to him in such a tone before it takes me by surprise.

"But how long have I been treating you like crap?" he asks

"From when mom died, maybe about two months after, I'm not fully sure," I state. I look up at him to see him look away from me to the floor. "Don't feel guilty, Dad, you're sick," I say, trying to make him feel better.

"Megan, how can I not? My daughter is black and blue because of me. You are scared of me. I can tell by how you look at me," he states, rubbing his eyes with his hands. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart" he pauses. "I know a sorry isn't going to undo all the things I have done to you, but I am deeply sorry and will make it up to you," he states, moving closer to me. "I'll turn myself in," he states.

"No, Dad, don't," I say quickly, slowly stepping forward. "You're all I have, and if I lose you too, I won't be able to cope," I say.

"But it's for the best, Megan. I'm hurting you, and I shouldn't be,"

"No, Dad, you're not. The other you is the person that is completely different to you," I state.

He sighs, "Megan, it still doesn't account for what I've done."

I sigh, frustrated at what he is saying. "Dad, you've got some medical condition. Melanie pointed it out," I state.

"What! Melanie knows?" he asks.

"Well, you hit Tyler when you walked in on us, urm..." I trail off slightly.

"It's ok, sweetheart. You went out with the boy for about two and a half years. I'm not stupid," he says with a small smile that quickly fades.

"Well, all you caught is us making out," I state and look at him, "but anyway, you threw him down the stairs and then started hitting him. When I tried to stop you, you started hitting me," I pause and take a deep breath, "and that's when Tyler hit you. You passed out, and well, it is that weekend I slept at Tyler's," he frowns and is about to ask me a question ", and he says I had to tell Melanie as she is my best friend.f"

"Oh," he then looks down a little. "Tell me everything," he states. I nod slightly. "I'll make you a hot chocolate, and we'll sit in the living room." I nod and walk into the living room.

A couple of Hours Later

My father paces the room back and forth as I tell him what he has done over the past two years. I did keep out the part where he has been raping me. I’ve decided it is best just not to tell him. I keep telling him it is okay and that if he gets help, everything will be okay and back to normal, but he doesn't have it.

"You cannot stay here," he states. "Better yet, I can't," he says and goes for the phone. He takes a deep breath, and it only takes me a minute to register who or what he is ringing. I quickly get up and take it out of his hands.

"No, Dad," I snap, "you can't. The police will take you away from me, and I'll have to go through a load of tests and examinations," I state.

He sighs. "Then what? What am I supposed to do? I can't go on knowing what I've done to you and not get the punishment I deserve," he states.

I sigh; "You just need to go to the doctor and get help. That's all, Dad," I say and look at him, trying to smile a little. He moves his hand to my chin and pushes my head gently to the side to look at the bruises more. "It's ok...they look worse than they are," I say, trying to make him feel better.

"Am I drunk when I do this to you?" he asks.

"Half the time," I mutter. He sighs and takes his hand away from me to walk into the kitchen. I follow close behind him and watch him take all the alcohol out of the cupboards. I watch him look at some of the bottles with a confused look.

"I don't even remember buying most of these" he states. "I don't even like vodka, and I haven't drunk beer since my mid-20s," he states. I watch him open all the bottles, pour one after the other down the sink and then throw the bottle in the bin.

Once done, he walks over to me and stands a little away. "You should get some sleep," he says quietly. I nod and turn to go up the stairs. "I love you, sweetheart," I hear him say. I stop and turn to look at him. "You know that, right?" I nod.

"Of course I do,"

"I'll get some help," he says, looking at me. I smile, nod an ok, walk over to him, and kiss him on the cheek.

"I love you too, Dad," and I go to my bedroom. I fall asleep quickly for the first time in ages and feel a weight has been lifted.