My father nearly burns the house down.

He stumbles in drunk and angry at three am, swearing and getting violent. It's always like this really. He's always mad, violent and angry. I don't know what happened to the man I used to know, the caring cool dad who would drive me anywhere and everywhere, take me to the park on Saturdays and then bring me for ice-cream sandwiches at the cafe around the corner. But at the same time, I wonder what happened to me too. I avoid him, until he drops burning cigarettes on the carpet. Then I act.

He's crazy. I know. But we all are, somewhere deep inside.

I call the fire department.