The drinking is what started it. Always. They would come home from work and run for that liquor cabinet.
Then came the arguing followed by the fighting. They would mix it up for hours too, sometimes all night. It would end only when the police were called, or they both passed out drunk.
Amber was fortunate enough to escape any physical abuse. The psychological scars would no doubt last for decades, if not longer.
She had her saving grace though – that old, beat-up air conditioning unit in her bedroom. She’d turn it on, and it would drown out everything.
Everything.
The Weekday One Hundred 