(Hunter's POV)

Even by the time I woke up, I could already tell that it was going to be a horrible excuse of a day.

I was exhausted, too. The little amount of sleep I'd gotten during the night wasn't enough. It never was. Every single night of my life, I'd be either woken up by nightmares, yelling, or both. Unfortunately, it was usually both.

Every one of my dreams was plagued by the relentless abuse my father forced upon me. In every nightmare I'd end up dead, whether it be on the side of the road or toppling to the ground from atop a tall building. It was always something. It wouldn't be so bad, though, if he wasn't there. He always haunted my dreams, every one of them. I seldom had a decent dream, but if I did he'd show up just to ruin it.

Often when I woke up I'd be crying uncontrollably. It's pathetic, I know, but it happens to the best of us..

No it doesn't.

Reluctantly, I started to get out of my bed and drowsily make my way to the bathroom to get ready for the day. Yawning, I stepped into the small bathroom and locked myself inside. Already I could hear my father's yelling.

"Useless woman! What have I said about sleeping this late?!"

A smacking sound and a whimper. Then a baby crying. A helpless feeling.

I sighed and shook my head, deciding that I'd just hide in the small bathroom for a while.

So I did. I stayed in there for a half an hour, almost falling asleep as I quietly stood there.

However, before I could fall asleep, I was suddenly snapped awake by a horrifying scream. The scream that still haunts me to this day. It was a wordless scream, but it produced that horrific feeling when you know that something has gone so wrong that not even the one who did it can process it.

But, the thing is, my father wouldn't even try to process it.

I cracked open the bathroom door to see my father with Mom cornered. She was holding the limp body of what used to be my baby sister. She was always abnormally small, and she'd only had two weeks to live.

That was the breaking point. I couldn't hold myself back anymore.

Actually, now that I think about it, I could've.

I just had enough of trying. I was done putting up with it.

So I grabbed a kitchen knife from the counter and crept up behind my father, raising the knife above my head in preparation to stab it into the back of his skull. I closed my eyes as I brought it down, but I was stopped by my mom's cry.

"Hunter!" She sobbed.

I cracked one eye open to look at her. My father had turned and saw me. He should've been crying and begging for his life, but he was grinning. Silently daring me to do it.

"Hunter please!" Mom cried again, "D-Don't kill him!"

I took a small step back, my eyes slightly widening at her request.

"P-Promise.. Promise me that you won't kill him! Don't be a monster like he is!" She cried.

She didn't care for him. She cared for my sanity.

I dropped the knife completely, "I-I promise, Mom!" I sobbed.

"Now-" She was cut off by a horrendous cough that sent shivers of dread down my spine. One that let me know the undeniable fact that she was dying, and that even if she wasn't my father would soon kill her.

"RUN!" She managed to shriek before my father forced a knife into the back of her skull.

I didn't see her body fall to the floor, but I heard the terrible thump as it hit the dirty tiles that had been below her feet. I'd turned and run away, left only with the image of my beloved mother's corpse clutching her deceased child as she fell. I don't think that I was followed immediately, but I never looked back to find out.

This seems like the ending to this short tale, and it is, but first, one thing needs to be said.

I kept her promise. I kept it no matter how tempting and rewarding the slaughter of my ruthless father would be.

But, one more thing.

While I kept from killing my father, I still became a monster.

In a way, I am

Just
Like
Him.