I saw the massive computer monitor heading towards my face. I quickly rolled across the floor, hearing it SLAM next to my head, pieces of plastic spraying my hands as I cupped them across my face.

I extended my feet towards Peter standing above me, putting them between his legs and turning--- bringing him to the ground. We struggled, rolling across the floor, when I heard footsteps approaching the empty Mocha Daze.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see a woman's figure standing in the doorway. By the size of her physique, she looked familiar. Peter dragged me by the collar, swinging me towards the counter. My eyes adjusted, and I realized who it was watching us--- my father/mother/freak Hillary!

Though I was bleeding as Peter continued in his rage against me (and completely deserving, I might add), I knew I had a prime opportunity here.

"Please Peter, stop it!" But he continued, just as I hoped he would. "I need those computers."

He picked up a silver metal milk foaming cylinder, bringing it to my forehead with a loud THUD. I heard the footsteps moving towards us.

"I want to re-build." The tears came much easier than I anticipated. "PLEASE!" He swung the cylinder again, slamming me in the forehead.

I reached forward, grabbing a kitchen knife, the blood stinging my eyes. Peter picked up a blender attachment, it's sharp circular blade swinging directly at my face.

"PETER!"screamed Hillary, moving towards our writhing figures to halt his act of violence. But in that moment I knew I had the opportunity to strike back.

Suddenly Peter leaned above me, frozen, looking down at himself, as Hillary screamed, seeing the bloody knife handle suspended in his chest. I let go as Peter fell back, his body slowly stopping as he lay motionless on the cold linoleum floor, a pool of blood gathering around his torso.

I reached forward, the tears falling, grasping at Hillary. She leaned forward, embracing me. "Why'd he do that?"

"It's okay."

"I'm in trouble."

"I saw it. I was here."

I embraced my mother/father/thing, the tears falling so perfectly they would have made the Menendez boys very proud. My head pounded in great pain as Hillary stood up, grabbing the phone and dialing 911. I knew it would only be a matter of time before the paramedics would arrive--- as well as the police.

But this time I had a witness.

This time I knew it was a new beginning.