My heart is racing. I place Sarah gently on her bed. 'Sar, it's not true,' I tell her desperately. 'It's not true. Sarah, please ...'  
                          
      Sarah is whimpering, curled into a ball, distress etched all over her face. Rage grips me. I storm back into the living room to face Robert. The bastard is actually grinning, his eyes full of madness.  
                          
      I shove him in the chest and he falls back. 'What the fuck was that?' I scream as he scrambles to his feet.  
                          
      'The truth,' he spits at me. 'For once, the fucking truth.'  
                          
      'You don't ever say that,' I yell, shoving him again. 'You don't ever fucking blame her for what happened to Mum. You hear me, fuckwit? Never!'  
                          
      'I'll say whatever the fuck I like to you, to her, to anyone.'  
                          
      'What the fuck is wrong with you?' I shout, spit flying from my mouth with every word. 'Are you fucking normal? What happened to mum wasn't her fault.'  
                          
      He grins again and I'm shocked by the viciousness in his eyes.  
                          
      'What happened to all that shit about working together to be a happier household?' I shout at him. 'What about Sarah and me?'
                          
      Robert's eyes narrow. 'I don't give a single fuck about either of you,' he spits at me.
                          
      I stop dead. Finally, the truth. Everything that's happened in the last few weeks, all the efforts Robert made – it's all been bullshit. He doesn't care about us. He doesn't care about anyone but himself, and I'd been stupid enough to let Lily and Sarah convince me otherwise.  
                          
      Then I feel it. All of it. Everything Robert has ever made me feel. 
                          
      I hit Robert hard as I can in the jaw. He crumbles to the floor, so I kick him in the head and stomp on his chest. I want to kill him. I want to tear him to pieces for everything he's done to Sarah, to me, to our mother. For every time he hasn't been there for us, hasn't cared for us. But I know I can't. I know I have to get Sarah out of here, get myself out of here, before the rage makes me do something I'll regret.  
                          
      I race into our bedroom and scoop up Sarah in my arms.  
                          
      I pocket my phone, cigs and wallet and head to the door. As we pass through the living room, I get one last look at Robert before we exit the flat. He's lying on the floor, his torso half propped up by the wall, his eyes swollen, his face a bloody mess. On the verge of passing out.  
                          
      I stop and stare at him, taking it all in, finally seeing this broken man in front of me for the pile of shit he really is. The man who's supposed to be my father.  
                          
      I spit at him and with Sarah cradled in my arms, walk out the front door.
                          


                          
                                                                                        ******

                          


                          
I carry Sarah to the park to cool off and work out what to do next. People stare at us as we pass them on the street, which isn't surprising because we must look like absolute shit.  
                          
      Images of me hurting people, bashing in their heads and breaking their noses, bounce around my skull. I'm panicking. I can't think, I can barely breathe. 
                          
      We reach a park bench and I sit Sarah down, sucking in great lungfuls of air, trying to calm myself. Sarah is still whimpering. Her eyes are red and puffy and she's shivering. I take off my jumper and pull it over her shoulders, trying to shield her from the cold night air. I spark a cig and suck in the nicotine, trying to relieve the tension while racking my brain to dredge up a plan.  
                          
      I think about calling Constable Finley, the youth liaison officer, but quickly dismiss the idea. That would only bring more trouble, more charges and get the government involved. Fuck foster homes, we aren't going there. 
                          
      I pace up and down in front of Sarah, trying to work out what to do. I want so much not to be here right now, not to be in this position. To wind back the clock an hour or so to before everything blew up.  
                          
      I kick the bench in frustration and Sarah glances at me with unease. I can't believe how dumb I've been. I'd convinced myself that deep down Robert really cared about us, about me. I'd let my guard down, hoping everything would turn out fine, but it won't.  
                          
      Lily is wrong, so wrong about Robert, and I'm the idiot who listened to her.  
                          
      I feel an unexpected surge of anger towards Lily. For her optimism, for her hope. I'd let her influence me. I'd let her make me soft. 
                          
      I feel like she lied to me, made me go against what every instinct I had was telling me was the reality of the situation. What I knew was the reality of the situation. That 
                          
      Robert didn't care.  
                          
      I desperately try to keep my head straight and not let the raging emotions inside of me take over. I need to get Sarah somewhere safe, then work out what to do next. And then it dawns on me. The fight, the guys. Lily wouldn't approve, but I'd listened to her about 
                          
      Robert and look where that got me? And with that realization, a plan comes to my mind.  
                          
      I take Sarah's hand gently, urge her off the bench and we begin walking back towards the flats. I don't care about anything anymore. Right now I need to be with the only people who have ever protected me or made me feel good. I've made my decision. I'm going to that fight.  
                          


                          
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