We lost! It's my own stupid fault! The ball rolled off my fingertips and the ref called it their goal. And then they won. The only goal scored in the game and it's in the last two seconds, when we can't even do anything about it. My dad is mad, I just know it. I have been playing goalie for soccer for five years now. I'm the best one on the team! But I lost the game, the championship, for them today. The team is mad, but my dad is livid. Thank god I have to take the bus back with the team. He had a few beers at the game; I don't want to be in the car with him mad and drinking. When I get home I just want to sleep. I run up to my room before anyone can talk to me.

"Katelyn Marie Anderson! Downstairs! NOW!" My dad sounds really mad. I don't even have to finish walking in to the living room to smell the alcohol in the air. This is bad. Really bad. But if I don't go in there, it will get worse. With a deep breath, I enter the room.

"Yes, daddy?" I try and keep the fear out of my voice. He likes fear.

"You failed! You couldn't even stop one fucking goal! What the fuck is wrong with you?" I hate that word. I promise myself to never use the f-word, especially to my kids.

"I'm sorry… it rolled off my fingertips. I tri-"

"Excuses are for losers! Are you a loser?" He leaned down and glared into my eyes. His were bloodshot and black. "Answer my question. Are you a loser? 'Cause I don't raise losers."

"I'm not a loser. I messed up. Sorry." He didn't like that answer very much. His face went red. It was the face he made right before he would hit Blaine. He did that a lot. Blaine will lie and say he never gets hit, but we know he does. Anna has heard it a few times, and I've seen it accidently. I know better than to bring it up. My dad hates that he's gay. I don't see why it should matter. Blaine never did anything wrong. He was a straight A student, never got in trouble, and was the leader of the Warblers. But he was gay, so my dad thinks he's a failure.

I closed my eyes, waiting for the slap across my face. It never came. Instead I felt, large hands wrap around my neck. I open my eyes and see my father, red faced as ever, eyes void of any emotion beyond anger. His grip on my neck tightens. I can't breathe. I panic. I try any pry his beefy hands off of me but I'm too weak. I'm a twelve year-old girl, no match for a drunken grown man.

"I won't have a FAG for a son and a failure for a daughter! You can both rot in hell for all I care!" His words were the last thing I heard before everything went black. They were still ringing in my ears.

"Katie? Katie? Are you ok? Oh my god! Come on we'll get you help." Blaine's voice sounded frightened. I tried to answer him. I tried to beg for help. But nothing came out. I couldn't move. It felt like I was floating in a dark space. I could hear Blaine put me in the car and drive off. But it just felt like I was floating, floating in and out of the sounds of the real world.

…..

"Blaine, you don't understand. You know you're father is. He was drunk. He loves you kids. He didn't mean to do this" My mother was crying, you could tell.

"Yea, he's drunk a lot and there's a lot that he doesn't mean to do, but he does it" I wanted to run to Blaine, tell him I knew about the beatings, tell him I love him, tell him that he was the best big brother in the world. But I couldn't. I was floating.

…..

"Katie? Please just wake up…I need you." I never heard Anna say those words before. I wanted to just hold her in my arms. I wanted to cry with her and tell her I will always be there for her. But I couldn't. I was floating.

…..

"Get him out of here! Keep him away from her!"

"I'm her father! I have every damn right to see my own kid when she's in the hospital!"