I scream why me! as broom sticks and mop handles go upside of my head, barely healing from yesterdays beating i just had. Head all swollen blood drops hitting the floor, i'm your son i yell!! please don't hit me no more. Shut the hell up!!!! you replied while turning up that bottle of vodka, you probably not my dam!! son anyway. No gym class for me because the bruises are to vivid, i try my best to hide the marks but you still can't help but see it. Questions get ask dam!!! what happened to you? studdoring to come up with an excuse to justify all the knots on my head, welts and cuts on my arms and legs, along with crack ribs. Only 13yrs old, now where in the F****!!!! was DCFS? calls were reported and the case worker showed up, so concerned with just metting her quota she filled out the paper work but never followed up. Scared to go home too afraid of repeating yesterday but i work up the courage and go home anyway. I slowly opened the door i could barely get in the house before he started yelling some more,already knowing whats going to happen thinking to myself i can't take it no more!!!. Then a thought pops into my head he keep a gun in his drawer, running to his room as he's charging at me wih the extension chord, pulled out the gun clutched it tight shot six times as he hit the floor. With every shot reflected a beating, i'm not mad that he's dead for hurting me for no reason.