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It was late in the night, the sky was pitch black with only a few glimpses of starlight visible through the thick, dark clouds.

We were all sat in the living room at the front of the house, my father, mother, 2 of my older brothers, and my older sister. We were idly talking before my mother had entered the room, I don't recall the subject but it was nice, being able to spend time normally with the people I cared about.

My mother had entered and started shouting at my father, who she easily noticed was intoxicated and wanted him out of the house and back into the shed, which he had refused. Now that I look back, it is hard to see how I failed to notice how he was drunk, I suppose I had gotten too used to it.

My mother had continued shouting, her voice echoing through the house as she screamed at him, finally losing her temper and rushing off to the shed my father lived in. Whilst we awaited her return, we tried comforting our father, telling him that everything will be okay and such, but he just sat sobbing quietly.

When my mother returned, it was with an empty bottle of vodka, quite a large one at that with nothing but a few tiny drops left at the bottom. She shouted again, "What is wrong with you?" She had started, "Why did you have this then?"

Before my father even had a chance to respond, she lifted the bottle way above her head and swung it down, as if to hit my father. She stopped mere inches from the back of his head, which my father had instinctively covered with his hands.

At that moment it felt as if my heart leaped out of my chest and into my mouth. I was speechless and started silently crying, trying not to let the others notice before they all stood up, one of my older brothers, only a year my senior, moved my mother away from my father with my sisters help, whilst my other older brother, about 4 or 5 years older than myself moved my father to the hallway.

My mother then proceeded to shout yet again as I sat crying, unable to move, just watching. "Get out!" She screamed, tears rushing down her face as she shouted, "Get out of my house!"

This caused my heart rate to skyrocket, I stood up and went to my father and just hugged him, my mother still shouting. As this happened, all 3 of the siblings present other than me went to their rooms and gathered their things, telling my mother that if our father was being kicked out, so were they. This has haunted me for years, see them all be able to take action whilst I stood alone, unable to say anything as my siblings did so much to show my father some support.

Eventually, my mother had given up, and everyone stayed, including my father, but not until I collected another scar, the oldest brother present telling me to "Look after his things" as he was readying to lead broke me, I sat back down and cried until I couldn't anymore, I didn't want to do this. I wanted to be strong, but I couldn't.