Michael hwad beens in his study with his daughter, Hannah. In the left of the study on a table where, a drink had been placed for his watchful eyes and he almost fell into a pattern. It was a pattern where he'd almost grabbed it, but he didn't. He needed help. He wanted no help at all. Did that mattered to him? Not much, but now with the dog in the house, which its showed his teeth at Hannah and who realised that she should of got out of there. The dog moved forward and it made her stumbled backwards.


He saw Hannah's face turned purple asnd ifthat smade her looked like a plum. The face had lost so much colour that he wondered what he'd done. His hands shook in a state of worry and it was as if he wanted to get bitten by the dog instead of his daughter.

"Get him away from me!" Shouted Hannah.


Michael shook his old head. "No." He bent down and patted the dog on the head while he saw the face of Hannah and with that he smiled. He circled Hannah and pointed to the drink and then he raised the bottle and drank it.


"This is a good drink," he remarked.


"You're going to die because of that drink. It will be your fault."


Michael felt depressed as he gulped down another drop of whisky. Now he felt nothing, but a haunted dream. If he was going to haved one more drop then, he would destroyed his whole family with hatred.


"Stop this, please."


"No, Hannah, I won't."


He took the lead and unclipped the dog free. The dog with it's granules eyes that stared at her as he trotted towards Hannah. But Hannah with ther fear of dogs had backed away like an indigenous child of horror.


The dog pounced at her and Michael looked on without a smile. However, he was still enjoying himself with her pain.


Against the wall, Hannah watched the animal as she wrapped her arms around herself. She started to shake like she had lost all her feelings.


He'd liked her fear as it made him feel good. It made his cheeks rosy like a flower. But when the petal dropped off, its showed underneath his surface that he' had become a monster in her eyes.


Sounds of her screams rang loud in his ears and it hadidn’'t matter what she felt.


He stood there as if he had no care in the world. In fact, he hadidn’'t cared about anything but the drink.


Michael’s eyes gleamed like a violent man. At any moment he'd planned to strike as Hannah glared at him like a rage of fire.


He walked over to Hannah and then he raised his hand and smacked his own daughter in the face. He stared at Hannah as she faellen onto the ground. Her face turned violent red and then quietly she cried as she didn't want to see Michael's face.


He stood there in shock of what he had become. He was crazy. What if he hadn’t attacked his own daughter, would he be able to get help?


He moved backwards as he now knew he hated himself for slapping his own daughter and that he kept on drinking. He kneeled down and moved his head nearer and nearer to the ground as if he wanted to hurt himself.


He left the room and went upstairs, washed his face and shook his head. What have I done?


Then he booked a clinic as his skin had lost colour and then said his goodbyes and left with one bag. On the way to the train station he turned back, mouthed the words "sorry" to Hannah and Gail. Then he disappeared as the road of recovery had started.