23 | twenty three
Breakfast was quiet.
Stacey silently ate her toast as her mom boiled the kettle, pouring herself a mug of hot water. The red mark on her cheek was prominent and Stacey could tell that it was swelling and bruising. Her dad walked in a little while later and opened the fridge, grabbing the carton of milk and opening it.
He tipped his head and gulped down the milk and Stacey's mom watched him.
She would usually say something or scold him, telling him to get a glass.
But she didn't, she said nothing.
And Stacey noticed.
Her dad put the milk back in the fridge, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Stacey slowly bit a piece of her toast off and her mom put the kettle back down. Her dad hovered over her mom and he kissed her cheek from behind making her shrug him away.
Stacey's dad turned back to the dining table where his daughter was sat and gave her a smile, grabbing an apple from the bowl.
"Have a good day at school."
Stacey watched as her dad walked away and then her eyes flickered back to her mom who was hunched over the countertop, fingers turning white from her grip on the surface.
"Bastard," her mom muttered under her breath and spun around, making the cup of hot water tip over, and walked out of the kitchen.
Stacey finished her toast robotically and put the plate in the sink, staring at her warped reflection in the tap.
But she couldn't help think if it was any less warped in reality.
Stacey heard loud footsteps come from the stairs and the front door open before being promptly slammed shut behind her dad. She peeked her head around the doorway and saw a vase suddenly fly through the air, hitting the door and breaking into hundreds of pieces.
"You bastard!" her mom screamed and Stacey looked away, grabbing her bag for school and trying to ignoring her parents.
They deserved each other.
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