Sara Wilchester was your typical popular girl beautiful, smart, funny, and everything every girl wanted to be. So, no one questioned her when she wore long sleeves in the middle of summer or when she had a cut too big to cover. No one knew that all those hours in front of the mirror were for covering the bruises he’s made and the scars he’s left. No one knew that walk home would be the last. No one knew that when she disappeared around the corner it would be the last time.
They also didn’t know she was headed for a tiny trailer with more bad memories than it could hold. Or that her dad died and unlike herself, her mom moved on. They didn’t know the pain.
Sara entered the house and slipped past the living room where He sat. He the Replacement, the man who took her father’s place, but could never fill his shoes. He was watching another football game, surrounded by empty beer cans. Sara quickly went to her room, thanking the Force that kept him distracted so, He left her alone. She spent the day in her room hiding, just like yesterday and the day before, and every day since He showed up. She left only for dinner and the occasional time that her mother needed her. Today was no different, until the phone rang followed by a string of unrepeatable words from His mouth.
Sara laid low the rest of the night, praying that he’d take his anger out another way. Praying that for once she wouldn’t have to endure the pain again. But all of that was in vain, because still the door opened, and He stood there. The man that haunted her day and night, who caused her nightmares.
“Where have you been all night?” He slurred more drunk than usual.
“In here avoiding you,” Sara said confidently. She knew no matter what she said or did it would end the same and she refused to let him think he broke her.
“Don’t talk to your father like that,” He screeched.

Sara was furious he had no right to call himself that, “You are not my father,” she yelled.
“How dare you, apologize” he demanded.
She looked him in the eye and said defiantly “I’ve done nothing wrong”.
That’s when he snapped, “Worthless brat” he screamed. He grabbed her by the arm, throwing in to the wall as she screamed. The neighbors heard, but by now it was too common of thing that they didn’t know anything was wrong. It wasn’t till the second scream that someone realized that something wasn’t right, but it was too late. The glass had hit her, the blood ran through her hair and down her head. You could hear her mom, crying, begging him to stop. He didn’t, he wouldn’t, not until she would never disobey again. She never did.