Hurting

It was a defining moment. He swayed in front of the hearth and tried to face me down, defiance burning through glazed eyes. I drove my fist into him like a hammer, catching him just below the eye. His skin ruptured and tore as he fell backwards into an armchair. A little bit of the blood that’s thicker than water trickled from the corner of his mouth. “Don’t get up, Dad.”