(Angela's POV)

   There it goes again, another resounding slap. This is really getting old, I mean why did he marry her when he wasn't in love with her? It's not like I would get an answer to that question now, would I? If he isn't hitting her, I am the one at the receiving end. I just cannot wait to turn twenty-one so that I can escape this house and the misery I call a life behind. Ladies and gentlemen, the story of my life.

      Since I turned seven, all I've ever known is pain and suffering. That man that calls himself my father doesn't need an excuse to hit mom and I. At my young age then, I always thought, ' oh maybe he is drunk and he isn't conscious of what he is doing?', but that was never the case. That monster of a man is fully conscious each and everyday time he hits either mom or me, or both at the same time. There's just a few weeks to my twenty first birthday and trust me, I am not staying a day longer in this house and I'll be sure to bring my mom along. I hate seeing him hit mom. I tried interfering one time and it only made things worse for mom and for me, so each time he hits mom, I lock myself up in my room, just like tonight.

       My dad is a very wealthy businessman, very brutal even at work. My friends from school always ask, 'Angela, how do you cope with your father's brutality? Then again, they aren't asking me a question I haven't asked myself a million times over. I feel like dad is the way he is because he believes that that is the only way to get his point across,( not that I am trying to make an excuse for him or anything). It is a wonder how we're still alive, there's no end to this suffering. I am a student of the university of Lagos, studying architecture. Dad has always wanted me to study business management, but for the first time ever, I had a say in what I wanted to do with my life. The only worries I have right now is how I would pay for my education after running away from home because there is no way dad would pay for my school when I am not under his roof, but that isn't going to stop me, even if it means dropping out of school temporarily to be able to provide a comfortable home for mom and I. If my plans work out and mom and I get out of here safely to live somewhere she would be free and happy, dropping out of school is a small price to pay right? I was drawn out of my thoughts when I heard my father's footsteps coming towards the direction of my room. As quickly and quietly as possible, I pretended to be asleep as I wasn't ready for another outburst, followed by a beating tonight. I heard the door open and close, since I had my back to it. Dad walked towards the bed and my heart began to beat wildly in my chest. After a few minutes, I heard him walk towards the door, before it opened and closed again. I heaved a sigh of relief. 'just a few more weeks', I told myself, mom and I  wouldn't have to live in fear again.