Fattened for Slaughter

My father was a raging alcoholic. Every time he got drunk, he'd abuse me and my brother, Leo.

Afterward, he’d always throw a few hundred dollars at me as compensation.

I accepted it calmly, sometimes even buying him his favorite greasy burger and a cheap bottle of whiskey.

The neighbors tried to call the police for me, but I shook my head.

I touched my bruised arm and smiled faintly.

"If he hits me twice more, Leo will be hit twice less."

Until that night, when he got drunk again and pushed Leo off a tall building at a construction site.

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