The Ghost of You

Gerard's POV
Something changed during the last weeks. I might lost my mind but things got strange. Every time my father tried to hurt me something stopped him, just like someone hold his arm back, then he got angrier and looked like is veins were going to explode but he wasn't able to hurt me.
Every time I cried or was near cutting the light was turned on and off until I stopped and put the razor away.
And I swear I hear someone singing me to sleep every night. It made me feel less alone and it comforted me but I was paranoid like shit as well. What was going on?
Did I lose my mind? Probably. But it stopped my loneliness and I felt almost safe.
“Bastard! I'm hungry!” My dad yelled. I had not clue when he called me Gerard the last time. Probably before he beat mum to death.
He was alcoholic since my little brother Mikey died after a car crash. He was just 15 and he was our sunshine. After his death my mum got depressed and so did I. My father started to drink way too much and to beat us.
My father killed my mum about a year ago and some times I think it was the best for her.
She is free now, no pain, no torture, no dad.
Nevertheless, I miss her. But I hope she's happy now. I'll follow her soon.
“What the hell took you so long, Pussy?”
The man who used to be my dad asked. He was completely drunk, not that that was new for me. There was vomit next to the couch. Ugh, why didn't he choke on that. I had to clean that up later.
I went to the kitchen and made the monster a steak. I used to make sandwich but he beat me so hard that I broke my collarbone and two rips. I had a massive black eye as well and I had trouble to explain it to the doctor. You normally don’t get hurt like that when you fall off the stairs.
I brought him his food and he had a try. He burned his tongue because he was a greedy monster. “Do you try to fucking kill me, Bitch?” he asked before standing up. He was way bigger that I was and he spit me in my face. My eyes started to water. “No.. dad, uhm, I mean sir. Sorry, sir.”
he wanted to punch me in the face but his hand stopped a few centimeter before hitting me. His face started from pure anger into surprise. He tried again but it seemed like someone was holding his hand back.
See? There was something strange.
“What the fuck, pussy.” My father looked like he'd kill me any minute.
Then, within less than a second he was thrown through the room. He landed on the couchtable and was unconscious.
I used this opportunity to ran, not questioning what just happened.
Tears streaming down my face and fear filling my heart.

Notes