While I took hit after hit, I just wanted to get out of this room. The hits finally stopped, and I looked over at my drunk dad, jeering at me.<br/>"Go to your room." He said, slurring. "I'm going to bed."<br/>I nodded, and complied. I turned on my stereo, and turned it down so it wouldn't make dad mad.<br/>I went to the bathroom, and looked at myself in the mirror. Nothing too major, just a few bruises on my stomach. I took a quick shower, and put on my pajamas. I stayed in my room for about an hour, then crept downstairs.<br/>He was asleep on the couch, with a bottle of vodka next to him on the beer bottle and cigarette covered coffee. I carefully took the bottle and ran upstairs with it. I took a couple sleeping pills, and dissolved them in the vodka.<br/>I crept back down, and placed it in the exact spot it was.<br/>An hour later, my dad called up to me.<br/>"Brooke! Get you ass down here and make me some dinner!"<br/>"Coming," I yelled, and ran downstairs.<br/>I made some fried chicken, with corn and mashed potatoes. I made two plate, one I hid in the oven.<br/>I gave him the other plate, and watched him eat it, my stomach grumbling. He nodded in approval.<br/>"Go get you some food." He told me, softly, trying to go back to the loving father he could be.<br/>I stood up, and he grabbed my wrist.<br/>"Be good, and I may not hit you as much."<br/>I nodded, and he let go of my wrist. I went to the kitchen, and ate my plate.<br/>I watched him take his vodka, and down half of it. I smiled, and finished eating. I did the dishes real quick, and got a bottle of water from the fridge. It was the flavored stuff, and I loved it.<br/>I went to the front room, where he lounged on the couch, watching TV.<br/>"Do you need anything else?" I asked quietly.<br/>"No. Go to bed. You got school tomorrow." I nodded and ran off before he changed his mind.<br/>I drank my water, and crawled into my bed. It was warm, and soft.<br/>I fell asleep quickly.