Kaylee's eyes snap open. She looks around the darkened room, panic rising at the unfamiliar surroundings. This isn't my room! And then she remembers: she's at grandma's house. The angel brought her here the night before; the beautiful angel who carried her high up into the sky and saved her. A booming voice screams out from downstairs. "No! I will not leave!" Her daddy's voice. He sounds drunk. He sounds angry. There is a short pause, followed by a soft murmur as Kaylee's grandma tries to reason with her furious son, trying to convince him to leave quietly and go home and get a good night's sleep. But both Kaylee and her grandma have seen Rodney like this many times before. They know there will be no reasoning with him tonight. He'll get his way, and he'll stop at nothing to get it. "Kaylee!" he shouts. "Get down here. NOW!" Kaylee is out of bed and on her way to the living room in an instant, barely even aware of her slavish obedience to her father's demand. She winces with every footstep, her feet still stinging from stepping on the broken glass the night before. "Get your fucking hands off me!" her father yells. He is much closer now, just down the hall outside the living room. Kaylee takes a tentative step forward, then freezes, trembling with fear, wanting to obey her daddy but unable to bring herself another step closer. She can hear grandma clearly now, standing in the doorway, talking calmly with her son, pleading with him to leave the house and let Kaylee sleep. "Go home and sleep it off, Rodney. It's too late now. Kaylee's asleep. Go on, go home now and we'll talk in the morning." But there is an edge to her voice. She is frightened. "Kaylee!" her father screams again. "Get your arse down here!" And then his voice takes on an even more dangerous, shrill quality. "I said get your FUCKING HANDS OFF ME!" There is a loud slap followed by a thudding crash as grandma's body collapses to the floor. The floor shudders. A vase in the hallway tips off its perch and shatters. Kaylee slaps her hand over her mouth, stifling a cry. She takes a terrified step backwards. Slow, heavy footsteps swagger drunkenly down the hallway. Kaylee can hear her father's heavy breathing. Even from here, the stench of alcohol is overpowering. And then he comes into view. He stands in the entrance to the living room, swaying slightly. His eyes fall upon Kaylee. His mouth curls into a snarl. Credits: Jewel by Thorne Room 9 by Expert Hair by Koz Clothing from DAZ