Stacy POV
For about forty five minutes, June and I reach home. As I help her by holding her hand clinging on my shoulders, she yaps again, "I wish I..could..flee fo-rever. Flee..from dad."
I sigh while listening to her. It makes me believe she has troublesome relationship with her dad. I'm so sure with the assumption because some of my classmates tell any drunken people usually utter the truths, even their deepest fear.
In less than two minutes, I take her to the second floor. After my bedroom is opened, I gently lead her to the room. "PAT!" I also lie her down on the bed. The strong scent of liquor is caught by my sense. "D*mn! How many glasses have you taken?" I whisper resentfully to her.
Shockingly, her reacts to my gentle whispers. "Just a little," She answers and directly puts
