I head down into the basement and open my dads beer cellar. I know it's wrong, but I need to unwind. I mean, I felt awful that my brother wanted to die. He had no idea how much that sucks for me, and everyone else in his life. I deserve a little enjoyment. I open a beer bottle, and drink all the contents. I drink another, and another, and another, until I feel the effects kick in. I felt warm and fuzzy, and the feeling is enjoyable. I drink even more beer, until I hear footsteps. "What do you think your doing with my beer you little brat!" My dad shouts at me. "Having fun?" I question, before laughing hysterically. "You won't be laughing after this!" He shouts before dragging me upstairs. He throws me on the living room floor, then gets on top of me, and starts punching me in the eye. Then he scratches my face, neck, and chest. "You're a worthless little brat, and you make stupid mistakes." He says, in between slaps to the face. He pulls on my hair, then smacks my jaw. Then he pulls out the big, terrible, belt. He hits my legs with the belt, leaving me with large bruises. After he finishes with the belt, he punches me in the stomach and back before leaving me on the floor. "WHOEYYYY!!!!!" I shout, really loud. "I FEEL LIKE I CAN FLY!!!" I shout louder. I get up, and start running around, but I'm sure it's the beer talking. "YASSSSSSS" I shout. Then I rush upstairs, and trip over the stairs, before falling asleep on the stairs.