I begged, pushing myself away from him. “I don’t like it when you do this.” “Shut the fuck up, slut!” he rambled, giving me a glimpse of his beer scented breath. I was ten years old, and Aiden was now eighteen. I was counting down the days until he left for college. “Fuck, Velaney…” My body shook as he said the F bomb. That word was the worst. It meant he was really mad. I begged him each time to stop. If he weren’t drunk, he was high. Or both. I don’t know how mom and dad didn’t notice, or maybe they just didn’t care. He was their perfect angel during the day. But at night, he was the devil. “You owe me a goodbye present, Laney. I’m leaving for college soon, remember?” I nod, acknowledging that I knew he was leaving. Of course, I knew. It was the only relief I felt in the past two years. Aiden left a few weeks later, driving hours away from home.
