Antonia couldn’t remember the last time her father had been this drunk. She scrambled off the bed and got under it. Her door did not have a lock because her father had said he did not want her bringing her countless men in his house. As if that made any sense.
She heard his footsteps at the door; she tried very hard not to breathe. He entered and started yelling, not aware that the person getting yelled at was not on her bed. She didn’t pay attention to what he was saying; she already knew the words to every tirade. She just concentrated on not breathing, hoping against hope he would leave.
She couldn’t make out where he was standing now.
She felt a hard hand get a hold of her foot and she knew she had no hope at all. She knew the hiding had only made it worse but she had done it anyway.
“This is all your fault. He doesn’t want you because he knows what a whore you are.”
She tried blocking the blows but he landed them with blinding accuracy.
“He is the cream of the crop and you made me lose him as a son in law.”
This time the fist landed on her head and the lights went out.