So, here is this. I cried during writing it, and yeah.

Disclaimer: I wouldn't have given Christophe the chance if I did own this series- the guy creeps me out.

For The Love of A Daughter- Demi Lovato

Four years old, with my back to the door.

It was happening again, my mommy and daddy were fighting again. I wanted to run in and stop it, tell them it wasn't okay! They should be happy, smile-y, loving. Not so angry all the time. It was like they were tip-toeing around each other, talking and laughing with me one minute before they would leave when the other entered the room. I wanted to stop them. I didn't know how.

All I could hear, was the family war.

"You selfish imbecile!" it was mommy's voice.

"You don't think that you had any part of this either, skank?" daddy.

"Oh, you think you can always shoulder the blame! You just are too weak to admit you did all of it!" mommy was angry.

"Angel does not-"

"No, she doesn't! And you don't need to bring her into this conversation!" mommy was protecting me. But why did she need to do so from daddy?

"Dru," daddy's voice was tired. "Please, you have to understand-"

"Understand?" mommy's voice got higher, meaning she was getting even more angry. But what did daddy do? "I understand everything in this hopeless situation! I'm trying so hard to get my act together so my daughter can have a somewhat decent role model."

"You don't think I'm not trying, Dru?" daddy's voice was now dark, like he was going to get very mad soon. When he got like that, he usually broke something.

"I think you're not trying hard enough. I know you're trying." mommy's voice was biting, it made me want to cry. It was mean, not nice at all.

"Not hard enough? Like the way you accidentally left Angel at school."

"That happened once, Christophe!" mommy's voice was high and screechy, like she wasn't happy to have the time she forgot me brought up. "Unlike the countless times you've come home drunk."

"Dru, if you don't keep your voice down-"

"If I? If I?" mommy's voice now had a slightly crazy ting to it, like when the principal at my school hadn't been very good at punishing the older boys who had been mean to me. "You aren't doing any better at keeping her out of this, Christophe. Remember how many times you've sworn in front of her?"

Daddy growled, growled. It was dangerous, scary and it caused tears to well up in my ears in fear. This wasn't good. I was not happy at where this was going. I wanted it to stop. I wanted it to stop now!

"Or how many times you've almost hit her? Or broken something in front of her? How about the time when I had to bail you out of jail just because I knew she need her father, as stupid, reckless and terrible-"

A loud, horrible sound came from the door. It was followed by a sound like someone falling.

"You bitch." it was daddy's voice.

A wet, sad and broken sound came from behind the door. Like someone was crying. It sounded like mommy. It happened again and then a scratching sound, like buttons on the hard tiles of the kitchen floor. Someone was crawling across the floor.

"Dru," daddy's voice was broken and sad. Like he was sorry. "I'm sorry. I didn't-"

"Stay away from me!" mommy's voice, fearful and high. She was scared of- of-

"Dru, please. I'm sorry-"

"Shut up." I ran away, not wanting to hear anymore. My feet pounded up the stairs and I heard the door of the kitchen opening, causing light to fill up the hall.

"Angel!" daddy's voice. "Angel, come back!"

I didn't turn around.

Am I your child? Or just a charity ward?

I didn't come out of my room. Daddy tried. Mommy tried. Even my teacher, Ms. Anna, tried. I didn't let anyone pull me out of my room. I was scared that if I did leave, daddy and mommy would try to say that what happened two weeks ago didn't. But I know it did. Mommy's face was purple and blue. Red rimming around it, in the shape of hand. I'd asked her what had happened and she'd flinched, fear in her gaze before she went back to trying to get me out of my room. But she'd begun to shake and that had scared me so much. The look in her eyes, of pain and fear.

"It's all your fault!" daddy's voice. I wanted to shut it out. I wanted to so badly, but they were close- in the bedroom beside mine- and I couldn't.

"How is it my fault? She ran after you struck me!" mom's voice was quieter, full of fear.

"You were the one- you- I can't believe you!" daddy's voice wasn't happy. I buried my face in my pillow as the tears came to my eyes. I didn't like this!

"What do you want me to do then?" mommy's voice was so broken, so scared and quiet. Mommy wasn't like this. She was strong, brave and smart! She wasn't the one who became scared.

"Dru, I want-"

"Actually, I know what to do." mommy left the room, I could hear her feet run towards the stairs.

"Dru, what are you doing?" daddy's voice was shocked and his heavy steps followed hers.

Clattering came from downstairs and I crept out of room. I didn't want to see, but I had to know what was going on.

"Here Christophe. You can take care of her the way you want to." mommy's voice was sharp, but pained and sad. Daddy gasped.

"Dru, don't. Don't, please Dru. Don't do it."

"But isn't this what you want? To be the one who's always right?"

"Not Dru- Not like this." I walked down the stairs silently, crawling into the lit kitchen. Mommy and daddy were behind the lone counter top, mommy holding something that glinted by her neck. Was it a necklace?

"But you'll get everything you want." mommy's eyebrow was raised, the way she did when she knew she was right and you should agree.

"No, Dru. I won't. I'll lose something I value the most." daddy was reaching towards her and mommy jumped away.

"Then you should've thought of that when you hit me. If you value me so much."

"Dru, please. I'm sorry. I'm so, so, so-"

"But that doesn't do much to help me heal from the fact that the man who promised to love forever, who promised to never hurt me, hit me. What was I supposed to do when Angel asked that? Say that her wonderful father had hit me?"

"She asked?" daddy looked so shocked, his arm falling back to his side.

"Yes. Now, I'm going to let you explain this one to her." Mommy brought her hand closer to her neck before bringing her hand across. Something red spurted, bright red, and mommy fell.

"Mommy!" I cried, the same time daddy said, "Dru!"

I ran to her, as fast as my little legs would, and grabbed her hand. Tugging on it, I began to cry. It hurt as I did so, really hurt, like I couldn't breathe and I couldn't control myself. I couldn't let enough air in as I cried. It hurt so much as I stared at my mommy's blank eyes, staring up at the sky like she couldn't see anything.

"Mommy!" I screamed, the little air I had exiting me to shout to her. "Mommy, wake up!" I shook her shoulder, the blood getting all over my hands and I shook her harder. The blood just kept spraying at me.

"Angel-" I looked up at him, to see him doing nothing. Just staring at me.

"Stay away from me!" I shouted, tugging on mommy's arm as I scrambled away from daddy. I didn't want him to touch me.

Horror, then sadness, then anger and, lastly, blind rage. He stepped towards me and I scrambked away. He was scary now, blue eyes blazing abd staring down at me with so much hate. I was scared.

Daddy must have seen that, because he swung.

Blazing pain shot through my face, and I fell, my face colliding with the floor. It was cold, and that felt good, but it also hurt. My head hurt so badly and I begun to shake, the painful crying coming back. I couldn't breathe again, and my lungs hurt.

"Angel, I- I-" I saw daddy's blue eyes as he came towards me. Towards me.

I screamed.

You have a hollowed heart, but it's heavy in your chest. I try so hard to fight it, but its hopeless. Hopeless. You're hopeless!

I was alone again. In my room again. Mommy was gone- she'd been buried. I hadn't gone to it. I'd stayed in my room. I'd cried, but I stayed in my room because daddy had gone. He hadn't come back until late and then he only did so to glare at me viciously. I'd backed away from him, I'd been trying to get something to eat, and he hit me. Yelling that I should be a better daughter, that it was all my fault mommy was gone. I'd run to my room.

I never went downstairs again.

Daddy was out again. He'd come in, but when he had, I'd taken one look at him and screamed. He'd looked so hurt, but backed out anyways, mumbling apologies. I hadn't heard him, just buried myself beneath my bed and waited for the door close. When it had, I saw green stuff, bright green and papery, sitting by the door. I'd picked it up and put it on my dresser, unsure of what it was. Just left it there and went back to my bed. Hiding again.

I don't know how long its been, but it been long. Dad had come in every day, the treatment I'd given him always the same. I'd screamed and run underneath my bed. He'd gone, just leaving the same green paper every day.

It was white outside, white and cold, my breath appearing on the window whenever I put my face against it. Dad had pulled me out of school, and Ms. Anna had come by with something called a computer. She had showed me how to use it, how it would teach me. She came by once a week, whenever dad wasn't here, to clean me up. She made me feel safe, for as long as dad was gone. She made it okay to laugh again, to smile again. To not be so scared.

But whenever dad came back, I fell back in my shell. I hid and was quiet. I'd scream whenever he came in the door anymore, I wasn't normally there. I was underneath my bed, it having become my new room, and working on the computer Ms. Anna had given me. He still left the green paper- money. I knew what it was now. Money and lots of it. The last time I'd counted it, I'd had over two thousand dollars. I was shocked by this.

But how long I'd been here still bugs me though- 11/18/2010 is what it reads at the bottom of my scream. Mommy died on 10/28/2007. That's what Ms. Anna says. Ms. Anna also says that I've skipped many grades, that if I was in school, I'd be surrounded by a lot of big kids, going to multiple classes. My birthday is on 5/6. I had some fun celebrating it- with Ms. Anna. Ms. Anna is always there for me. Unlike Dad.

Oh, father. Please father. I'd to love you alone, but I can't let you go. Oh, father. Please father. Put the bottle down for the love of a daughter.

It's been four years since Mom died. I've had five birthdays since then. The money dad gives me everyday has grown to over eight thousand. Most kids would have spent it all- or so says Ms. Anna. She always asks if I will ever use it. I say I might. Then I go back to my homework. Ms. Anna is a preschool teacher, but she still helps me with homework, even though I'm doing high school work. I'm eleven now. Ms. Anna says I'm very smart. I say it's just because I have nothing more to do with my time, and it's true. I don't do anything beside schooling. It sometimes gets boring, but I don't know much else. Dad has somewhat picked up his act- he has a job that sends him traveling. I don't see him often. I now, instead, have an account that he deposits money into everyday. I don't know how much money I've got. I don't count anymore. Just what I've got in my room, in cash.

I should be in the ninth grade, that's what Ms. Anna says. I say, alright. I don't care. I just care that I do my homework- that way, when my Dad gets home, he won't hit me. Ms. Anna doesn't know that he hits me. That he yells at me, late at night, that it's all my fault. I take it without complaint, so I can go back to my room and do my work, forgetting about the pain in my back, my stomach and my legs.

I sigh, shoving the laptop away from me, and getting up to inspect myself in my mirror. Ms. Anna goes out to get me clothes every month. I don't care what she picks usually, just that it covers me. It's normally cold in my house since I'm scared that if I turn the heat up, Dad will yell at me. It's also because I don't want her to see my bruises.

I have long brown hair that hits my waist, wavy and silky. My mother's hair. A heart shaped face with a splash of freckles, plump pink lips and a small nose. Also mom's. The only thing that isn't mom's is my eyes. Ice blue eyes, framed by long brown lashes, are cold as they stare tiredly back at me. I'm lanky, not fully developed and not pretty. I have long sprinter's legs, tiny feet, a small chest, and long arms, with thin and long fingers. My nails are perfect, long and even. Ms. Anna says I'm pretty, very pretty. I just shrug.

The slam of the door downstairs makes me flinch. Dad's home from India. I jump onto my bed, rest my head against the pillows and pull my computer on to my lap. I log back into my learning network and resume my report for history.

Oh, father, please father.

"I can't leave!" I shout, scared out of mind. Ms. Anna tugs on my arm. Her long red curls are pulled back in her pretty bun and her brown eyes glare back at me. Just because I'm fourteen and should leave the house to check out suitable schools and go shopping for something to wear on my first day does not mean I want to. I will be a senior next year and have no wish of actually going to school Ms. Anna says I need to because she wants me to go to a good school. I don't care about going to school. I would rather not risk the wrath of my father.

"Yes, you can. Your dad said you can. And that you can sleep over at my house tonight. He says he has something he needs to do at home and he doesn't want you there. If it's what I think it is, I will happily do as he asked." I glare at Ms. Anna and tug on her hold, wanting to go back to my room, where it's safe.

"I don't think so. I bet you're lying." Ms. Anna laughs at my response, jerking me towards the door. If only she knew more about my father...

"Well, I'm not. C'mon! It will be fun!" her eyes bore into me, begging me to come with her. I sigh and let her pull me out to her little silver car. I was still scared of leaving, but I couldn't refuse Ms. Anna. She was like my second mother. She had raised me, taught me everything that my mother would have if she could and was my best friend. I didn't have any friends. I never went out. Ever. I don't know where the nearest library is, let alone where there mall is.

I'd love to leave you alone, but I can't let you go.

"It's almost the fourth of July, Angel! You need to go out!" I roll my eyes at Anna and continue to work on my homework. I want to be completely ready for my senior year of High School. I'll be attending Staten Island Technical High School, and while it's a little far off, it will be worth it as I get two extra hours combined with my school hours away from home- away from my father.

"Angel, don't you roll your eyes at me. Get your butt off that bed and come join me at the fair." I don't get Anna sometimes, but they are also the times I love her the most.

Since my trip to mall- which was frightening let me tell you- Anna has been trying to get me out of the house more and more. So far, she's gotten me to go to the library twice. But I got home late one day and I've refused to go out of the house since then. But now, on the fourth of July, Anna is insisting that I come out of my room. She has my debit card that connects to my account that my dad has for me. Apparently, I have enough to be able to go to the movies twice a day, every day for the whole summer and still have plenty of money for the school year. Anna has taken the cash that was piled up in my room and deposited at my bank so now that spot is covered in make-up that I never really use.

"Yes, let me finish up here than," I hesitantly agree.

"Okay!" Anna squeals. She grabs stuff from my combining bathroom and begins to fiddle with my hair. She brushes through the silky brown waves and I ignore her, choosing my work over the fact that she's probably "beautifying"me. Remembering what the difference between a male and a female hippocampus, I continue my report for my science class as Anna turns on what smells like the curling iron.

"Are you done?" Anna asks, spraying more hairspray on whatever she did to my hair.

"Yeah," I say, frowning as I sent the document.

"Great! Now for make-up!" Shaking my head at Ms. Anna, who acts more like a teenager than I am, I patiently wait as she applies the "stuff normal teens my age do" to my face. After she's done, she hands me my favorite pair of jeans and a white top, the sleeves shorter than most shirts, but not immodestly so. When I come back out, I get a jean jacket shoved in my face. Laughing, I pull it on and twirl for Ms. Anna. She giggles and nods.

"You look like a gem, Angel!" she says, smiling at me before grabbing my hand and tugging me out to her car. I barely had time to snatch my black shoulder bag and wallet that Anna bought me for my birthday last year.

And as stupid as it was, as I made sure that Anna knew I thought it was, I was excited.

Oh, father, please father- put the bottle down for the love of a daughter.

My dad came home angry, and he was drowning his sorrows in his whiskey. I'm fifteen and I can't stand this- I'll be going to college soon.

Glaring angrily at him, I snatch the bottle and through it at the wall where it shatters and stains the white paint and brown color.

"What the hell do you think your doing?" he growls at me, standing up so that he towers over my five foot and half height.

"Saving you," I say and wrap my arms around his neck, putting my head in his shoulder. He freezes, before he slowly wraps his own arms around my waist and sobs into my hair.

"I miss her," he whimpers.

"I know," I murmured back and he kisses the top of my head.

"Thank you."

"I love you," I mumble.

"I love you, too." the three words I've missed for my whole life- said into my hair. I hug him back tightly and don't ever want to let go.

For the love of a daughter.