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words suddenly made sense to her and she
finally had the answer she had been looking for. After fifteen years of
neglect, guilt and misery the answer had been in front of her the whole time.
The reason why Phil looked at Madison in disgust and why he unconsciously
ignored at every possible moment was because Madison looked like her Mother.
    The urge to
chuckle was overwhelming and she felt stupid for not seeing it before. She knew
she looked like her Mother when Heidi had been her age, as Madison had looked
through the family photo albums hundreds of times. The similarities were
uncanny. Every one of Madison features she had inherited from Heidi, her long
shinny brown hair, the small point of her nose and the fullness of her lips.
The only part of Phil Madison had inherited were his light brown eyes and she
was thankful that was all she had inherited from him – she didn’t wait anymore
of his traits.
    Madison
stared at Phil in complete shock, pushing down the urge to chuckle; it would
only provoked him further. Pain spread to her eye socket, a hundred tiny
needles piercing her eye. The tears still ran thick and heavy, but Madison did
not cry out –the tears were automatic and uncontrollable.
    Phil
remained still, he was just as shocked at his action then Madison was, but
there was little regret or remorse in his eyes - they remained blank as his
features turned to confusion. Both of Phil’s hand twitched at his side, his
fingers flexing in and out, curling back into a fist - the whisky bottle sat
limp in his other hand. His eyes turned dark again and anger flashed back onto
his face. Before Phil could even flinch, Madison jumped to her feet and leap
towards him, pushing him backwards out of the bedroom door.
    Phil
stumbled backwards with little effort, he was still heavily under the influence
and easy to manipulate. He stumbled into the hallway, falling over sideways at
the foot of the stairs. The whisky bottle went flying, smashing on the floor
next to him - spraying him with dark, brown, liquid and shards of glass.
Madison paused in the doorway - concern and pity clouding her judgement. Phil
shuffled on the floor grumbling, he pulled himself up so he was sat up
straight.
      “Look what you’ve done, you stupid bitch!”
Phil slurred, gesturing to the wet patch of whisky of the beige carpet.
    His thin,
bony fingers dug at the wet patch trying to soak up some of the alcohol that
had soaked into the carpet.
    “You’ve
wasted it!” he yelled, licking the booze off his chubby fingers.
      “That’s all you ever care about isn’t it?!
Your precious booze! You’re sick - you know, sick!” Madison screamed,
unable to control the hurt and anger any longer.
    “What you’d fucking say….” Phil slurred angrily, struggling to get to his feet.
    Madison
slammed the bedroom door in his face, twisting the key in the lock.
    Phil banged
on the door in frustration, vibrations from the impact of his fist trembled
throughout the room. He slurred a few obscenities through the door at her, none
of them making any sense before slowly the hammering ceased. Phil gave up and
went off looking for another bottle of Whisky.
    At the
precise moment Phil’s fist hit Madison face and the shockwave of pain erupted,
she knew this was it for her. She was out. All hope that Phil might one day
wake up from this ever-lasting nightmare of booze and allow them both to move
on with their lives had now diminished.   Madison saw everything completely crystal clear for the first time in
her life - Phil was too far-gone to ever allow that to happen. There was
nothing she could do to save him now and she had known this for some time –
just never wanting to admit this to herself. She had allowed Phil to bring her
down too many times over the years and it was time for her to get away. Before
Madison had even made the conscious decision she found herself pulling clothes
out of her draws and throwing them onto the bed. Panic had made her