I approach the room Ivy's in, afraid to tell her that my parents might be using her for some stupid business venture.

But when I twist open the door, I become a different kind of afraid-a worse kind of afraid. I see Ivy's hand holding her bruised cheek, her back against the wall, and tears streaming down her face. I die in that moment.

The room closes in on me, and swallows me whole, and I die in that moment. I'm not here anymore. I don't exist. I've failed. I don't exist.

But something else does. A burning in the pit of my stomach does. Without thinking, I lunge at her dad, my knuckles slamming into his face. The blood coming from his nose is a welcome sight.

And before he can throw a punch back, I throw one more, this time the same spot he punched Ivy. His face contorts at the blow, and he retreats backward.

"Come on, big guy. I thought you liked hitting people. Or is it only people that won't hit you back?" I taunt. "Is it only your own daugh-"

He swings a punch at me, and it grazes my jaw. I laugh. I don't know what's wrong with me, but I laugh. "Is that all you got?" I get closer to him. "Come on! Do something then."

But I kick him in the stomach before he can. He falls to the floor, blood gushing from his nose, and now his mouth too. I crouch in front of him, and smile. Just like I pictured it, but better.

Grabbing his collar, I pull him off the ground. "Stop," he almost has to whisper. "Ivy, tell him to stop." I laugh at the way he's begging. Like a fucking coward.

"She isn't saving you this time." And I punch him. I punch him for every time he's punched her. For every time he's let a single tear come out of her eye. For every time he wasn't there for her when he was supposed to be. And I only stop when someone pulls me away.