An orchestra of crashes and bangs bellow from the house as I pull into our driveway. I grip the steering wheel, knuckles turning white as I contemplate what to do next. Do I go in? Try and diffuse Michael's anger? Or drive away, somewhere out of his clutches until he's calmer? Will my leaving simply add fuel to the fire? Safe in the metal cage I let out a breath. No matter what I do, it's a catch twenty-two. I sit for a moment or two, not wanting to emerge into the chaos that ensues inside. Birds chirp from the large oak tree in our garden. A beautiful song of welcome and spring. The contrast from Michael's racket is easing. I stare for a moment watching a bird flit between the branches, collecting twigs and leaves ready for their nest. It's a calming moment. I wonder what type of bird it is, perhaps a sparrow? Dad would know. He was fascinated with anything to do with nature, spending many days quietly observing, fishing or simply breathing in the tranquillity of life. I smile sadly at this. God I miss him so much. The years don't make the pain any less raw. I was a Daddy's girl through and through.

The car door opens before pain rips through my scalp. I reach my hand up trying to pry my hair out of his grasp. Michael pulls me out the car and, still yanking at my hair, drags me into our house. I cry out, tears brimming as the pain intensifies. It's a struggle to keep up with his stride, making the pulling much worse. Confusion and horror sink in. Everything had been going so well. What's happened to change Michael's behaviour? What have I done? Is it because I wasn't home when he came back? I'm almost certain I told him I was going to Mum's. Didn't I?

"Where the fuck have you been!? I told you to stay home!" his anger ripples off him. He lets go of my hair but the relief is only momentary before he grabs my face. Forcing me to look at him he continues to scream. His eyes are bloodshot, face red and that vein. God that vein. I can't respond, not like this, not with my face warped and unable to move. I sob harder, but this simply makes him erupt even more. He throws me backwards into the living room. Stumbling over the sofa I try and regain myself, try to reason with him. I was just visiting Mum, I was just telling her our news. He doesn't care. He steps towards me, removing his belt with each step. In an instant I'm thrown back to that night all those months ago. Without thinking, I run past him. He manages to grab a handful of my cardigan but I'm able to pull it off and run further. I'm heading up stairs. Holding onto the banister for support, my legs having become heavy. He's begun to chase me, poisonous words of hatred spewing from him with each footstep. I flee to our bedroom. If I can get there in time I can lock myself in. Wait things out until he leaves or drinks himself into a comatose state. I just have to wait. I just have to make it.

Once in I begin to slam the door, but I'm too late. Michael's foot stops it closing fully. Invades my safe space. I step backwards, begging him to stop. To calm down. To listen to me. He doesn't. Hands slither around my throat, choking me. This time I don't fight it. Just let me die. Let this be the end. Please. His grip loosens, why I am not sure. He relaxes, refusing to look at me. Confused but wanting out I try to sneak past him. I just want to get to my car, to drive away. Find Andrew. I make it no further than the top of the stairs before Michael towers over me.

"You don't ever leave this house. Do you hear me?"

"But Mum-" I begin to plead. Without me she would have no one.

"I said never!"

He throws me backwards. I don't have time to grasp the situation, it happens too quickly. His face, angry and hateful, gets smaller as I fall further down the stairs. Each bang sending a different pain throughout my body. My head, stomach, back. I lay, a broken heap on the floor. Blood pooling from my head, the stickiness taunting me. I can't move. Can't speak. I'm paralysed and bruised. Unable to fight or flee anymore. Michael looms over me, a mask of faux concern.

"Honey, you fell. Are you okay? Let's get you to the hospital now," his voice is sickly sweet. I'm carried in his arms before darkness takes over. Is this it? Am I finally dead?