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She stood.
"Father?" she queried, her voice wavering, her witch sight picking up his aura, it was dark, a dim burgundy that glimmered grimly in her vision. Silence filled the room and she approached him warily, he had never struck her in her life, and she knew that deep down he loved her deeply but she could feel the mixture of fear and sorrow that rippled from his already cracked and wounded soul. "Father, are you ok?" she repeated, from memory she knew she was near the door, falling to her knees she crept towards him. Subconsciously she was holding her breath. The floor was damp. The iron rich scent of blood rose unwanted from the cheap plastic tiling. Quickly she ran her hands over his body to determine the source of the blood. Fear ran through her veins. A sharp intake of breath closely followed by panicked short breaths as she gulped in the air. She tracked the blood's source to his nose. She stood up and slowly moved to the wash basin to find a cloth, grabbing the nearest dry one she returned. Gently she cradled his head back and pressed the cloth against his nose to restrict the blood flow. She jumped and exhaled with shock as a hand leapt onto her wrist and gripped it tightly. "Father, what happened?", but there was no reply and the hand fell limp again. The blood flow had stopped and she rose again, laboriously tugging at the heavy lump. His arms were clammy with sweat. A cold sheen covered his body. She managed to pull him out of the doorway, but his overweight form would have been a struggle for a full grown man let alone a teenage girl, she tried to lift him to the bed, but could barely even drag him. She reached up and pulled the blankets off the bed to cover him. He must have moved when she was occupied because she tripped over an arm that hadn't been there five seconds ago. Falling heavily onto her knees, she grazed them on the hard plastic floor. The abrasive tiles bitterly ripping into her skin. His breathing was shallow as she covered him with the blankets. She bit back the tears that sprung to her eyes as she looked after her guardian, tended her father and prayed to the Emperor that he would live through the night. She stumbled over him to the door and locked it. Silently, she crept up to the empty bed and lay on the hard, bare mattress. She curled her bleeding knees up to her chest and quietly cried onto the unyielding compacted foam. The bitter cold caused her skin to prickle. She tugged her clothes closer around her.

The night passed slowly. For hours she couldn't sleep. Her fathers breathing echoed in her mind. The cold denied her the warm embrace of her dreams. Eventually exhaustion overcame her and she fell into a light sleep.

She heard the alarm chime after what seemed like no time at all. Memories of the night before flooded to the surface of her mind. Her father had been drinking and she feared his hung over anger. Although it didn't register at the time, the complete silence filled her with a dread. She crawled over his prone form on the floor and went through the motions to make him his coffee.