It wasn't unusual for Stacey Russell's father to be in such a grumpy mood, for he was a rather grumpy man himself. It was rare for him to be in even a slightly good mood. And if he were to be in a good mood, he was almost always drunk out of his mind. People often questioned if maybe Stacey brought him such unhappiness. However, that wasn't exactly the case.

Her father, Marshall, was not always like this. He was once a man who was happily married. But everything seemed to have gone downhill after Stacey turned twelve. He and her mother began from small, meaningless arguments to intense, heated fights. After Stacey turned fifteen, they had divorced.

She had chosen to live with her father, her innocent mind making her think that he understood her more. Unfortunately, she was wrong.

Stacey, now sixteen years of age, always witnessed her unhappy father drinking until his body couldn't tolerate and consume anymore alcohol. And God, she was getting sick of it.

"You'll kill yourself if you keep drinking like that!" she yelled one afternoon in June.

"I know," Marshall grunted, shifting in his seat on the couch uncomfortably.

"If you know that, then stop," Stacey said firmly. "Please. It hurts to see you like this."

"What d'you want from me, Stace?" he said miserably. "Don't worry about me. Just worry about yourself and your own happiness."

"I can't be happy if you keep doing this to yourself," she said softly. "I can't live with someone who keeps hurting themselves the way you are. It... it's too much."

"What're you saying?"

"I'm saying stop drinking the way you are right now. You need to go back out there and get a girlfriend. Mom's already remarried."

Marshall sighed deeply, running a hand down his face in exhaustion. "Ok... You're right. I'll stop."

"Don't just say that," Stacey said with pleading eyes. "Promise me."

"Alright," he said quietly. "Ok. I promise."

But unfortunately, in his mind, promises were meant to be broken.

One night, a week after the incident, Stacey came home after taking a short jog around the neighbourhood, only to find all the lights turned off. She flicked them back on and peered around her home.

"Dad?" she called, kicking her shoes off. "You home?"

An inaudible groan emitted from the living room. Concerned, Stacey stalked towards the door and pushed it open. Inside, she was greeted by a terrible sight.

Several empty bottles of whiskey and Jack Daniels littered the living room floor, surrounding the coffee table and the couch. And on the couch was an extremely tipsy Marshall. He reeked so heavily of alcohol. It was nauseating.

"Who's at the door?" he mumbled, his words slurring terribly.

"Unbelievable!" Stacey gasped, making him jump in surprise. "You are unbelievable!"

"Mmm... What?" he squinted his small eyes at her, licking his dry lips and cringing.

"You promised!" she cried, tears swimming in her hazel eyes. "You promised me you'd stop drinking!"

"Sorry... I'm... Sorry..." he said hoarsely.

Stacey shook her head as the tears began to stream down her cheeks. "Sorry isn't enough... I can't believe you couldn't do this one thing for me."

"I'll do... better!" Marshall shrieked, followed by an obnoxiously loud hiccough.

She winced. "Stop it," she whispered. "Stop... I'm done. I can't deal with this anymore."

Without waiting for a drunken response from her father, she stormed to her bedroom and slammed the door so hard, the walls surrounding her shook. She leaned against the door and listened to her father howling out ugly, uncontrollable sobs.

She placed a hand over her mouth and cried silently. She lifted her hands to her head and tangled her shaking fingers through her strands of wavy, dirty-blonde hair. She sucked in several deep, trembling breaths to calm her hammering heart.

Running a hand across her face to wipe up her remaining tears, she dragged herself across her room to her telephone. She picked up the receiver and spun the dial. She lifted the receiver up to her ear and listened as the first ring issued.

After a few more seconds of constant ringing, a click emitted, and a voice sounded at the other end of the line. "Hello?"

"Mom?" Stacey whimpered into the phone. "Mom, I need you..."

***

The next morning, Stacey had all of her belongings packed in several carry-on bags. When she went down for a quick breakfast, her father made no effort to try and talk with her, or even apologize for what he did... just merely kept himself seated on the armchair in the living room.

Oddly enough, she didn't feel much care for it. He had been like this ever since the divorce, and no matter how hard Stacey tried to get him to stop drinking himself stupid, he never listened to her. Hell, he couldn't even keep his promise for his only daughter. She felt betrayed... It was like she was on a roller coaster; everything was way too fast to take in and comprehend. And as the ride rolled down that steep ninety-degree drop in that piercing swift motion, she felt her stomach jump into a nauseating somersault, making her feel sick.

When she spotted the black van parking in front of the Russell household, she scooped up a few of her bags with the help of her grumbling father. The whole way outside, she heard him mumbling incoherently under his breath. She nervously swallowed the large lump that grew in her throat with much difficulty, almost like she was swallowing a rock; it was hard and utterly painful.

Outside, a pretty woman stood by the car, patiently waiting for Stacey. The woman looked to be in her mid-forties with long, silvery blonde hair that was as thin as a sheet that reached her waist. She lifted her shades up to get a proper look at Stacey, revealing deep blue irises that had once cowered behind those black sunglasses. Her ruby-red lips curled into a large smile.

"Stacey, honey, it's so good to see you!" she gushed, holding her arms out.

Stacey shakily smiled. She dropped the bags she held by her arms and engulfed the lady in a tight, bone-crushing hug. "Mom... I've missed you," she mumbled in a muffled voice, her face buried into her mother, Anne's shoulder.

"I have too... But I'm not going anywhere. Not this time."

The sound of Marshall clearing his throat caused the two to separate. He allowed Stacey's remaining bags to fall to the grass with a light, dull thud. Anne blankly stared at him.

"Hello, Marshall," she said quietly.

"Anne... You're looking good today," Marshall muttered.

Anne sighed. "Ok, well... Are you ready, Stace?"

"Yeah, just... give me one moment?" Stacey asked timidly.

When her mother gave her a sympathetic nod in response, she slowly approached Marshall and gazed at him sadly.

"I'm sorry I couldn't help you," she said softly. "I... hope you'll understand someday."

"I promised you I'd change-"

"But you didn't."

Her father licked his chapped lips. "Ok... Don't keep your mother waiting, kiddo. And..." He drew in a long intake of air. "I'm... sorry I put you through hell. At least you don't have to worry about me anymore."

"Dad..."

"You just... take care of yourself."

And with that, Marshall spun on his heel and slowly headed back inside what was once Stacey's home. Stacey stared at the back of his head, hurt that he didn't even bother to hug her. Not even a handshake. Nothing.

She felt a gentle hand brush against her slumped shoulder. She leaned against the comforting touch of her mother and closed her eyes, craving for her love.

"Stacey... Are you sure you want to do this?" Anne asked worriedly.

Breathing in slowly and steadily through her nose, Stacey craned her neck to look at her and firmly nodded. "Hundred present positive," she responded.

Anne granted her a sad smile. "Well then... Hop in."

She aided Stacey with her bags and tossed them inside the trunk. Then, the two piled into the van and shut the doors. Anne plugged the keys into the ignition and turned it, making the engine roar to life.

Stacey watched through the glass of the window as Anne began to drive. She watched as her and Marshall's home grew smaller every second as they drove further and further away. Soon, the home became a small black dot.

And then it faded into the distance.

Now all she had to do was look ahead of her, where the town of Whitwick stood waiting for her to warmly welcome her.

This story will be set in the 80's, just so you know! And yes... Rob Lowe is Jesse ;)