Alex Pov
I was eight when I first learned that my father was a… bad man.
Well, not a bad man, but a man who was used to getting what he wanted, and he had his own rules for getting things done.
I had woken up from a nightmare. I couldn’t even remember what the dream was about, but it had scared me.
Another reason why I would never watch horror movies, not even now.
There was no way I was going to be scared, willingly. I needed to use the bathroom, and then after going to the toilet and washing my hands, I needed a drink.
Being the big brave girl that I was, I went downstairs to the kitchen to have a drink.
A nice cold glass of milk, which my dad had told me would make me feel so much better.
It was halfway down the glass of milk when I saw the hooded figure in the reflection of t
