"Enjoy and be safe this spring break" the man on the intercom started, "Remember school starts back on March 23rd. So I hope you all will be back rested......." I zoned out on what he was saying. I didn't care. I hated spring break, that meant I had to go home. Now most of you might think, ‘Why do you hate spring break?' and my answer is always the same, ‘My father is an *******.' He wasn't always though, he used to be happy, a great father. But as soon as my brother died he changed. I grabbed my book bag and walked down the corridor and started down the stairs. He changed for the worst. He basically made a u-turn in everything. He abused my mother constantly and started to consume drugs and alcohol. I got into my car revved the engine. I drove for Oakland, where ‘home' was. The only reason I returned from college to ‘home' was to see my mother and make sure she was alright. I turned the corner and nearly rammed my car into some man. I quickly grabbed the steering wheel and turned it to avoid the man who started to angrily shake his fist at me, "Sorry!" I shouted through my open window, " **** you!" he answered as I managed to get my car back in lane. Anyways where was I? Ah yes, the only reason I cam home on winter and spring break is to make sure my mother was doing fine. But usually when I came back she had dozens of bruises and scars that were not there before. I saw my house and slowly drove towards it, I was not two houses away from it when a black sedan quickly reversed out of a driveway and slammed my car on the side. The airbag quickly released and smacked me in my face. The man got out of the car and walked over to my car. "Are you alright?" he said as he opened the door and helped me out. I looked at his car and his rear bumper was smashed in. "My car! What the **** did you do to it Rosa?" my father yelled and I jumped, "Well technically it is my car" I whispered. "No sir. It was he fault it......." the man with blonde hair started but my father cut him off, "Go on! Get your piece of **** ride out of here!" he yelled and the man gave him a dirty look and got back into his sedan. I looked at my dad's arms, they were covered in small needle-sized holes. Heroin, most likely. "You are going to pay for my ******* car" he yelled as the man drove away. He dragged me inside the house and I winced in pain. "Get in there" he said and threw me in the front door, I fell on the floor and hit my head on the coffee table. He came through the front door and locked it shut. "You **** up my car! You **** up my life! And you kill my only son!" he yelled getting progressively angrier and louder, "I know you were the reason he died!" he shouted and grabbed his pocket knife out of his pocket. "You are going to pay for everything you ****** up!" he shouted a stabbed me in the arm. "Leave her alone!" my mother said rushing into the room, grabbing his wrist and trying to get the knife out of his hand. "You little......" he said as I darted to my room and locked the door. I heard things being broken and my mother scream out in agony...............
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