Dad pulled free of Mama’s grasp. He grabbed the half gallon of whiskey he’d brought and opened the door and stepped down into the mud. He left the bus door open behind him.
The way he doesn’t even care. He’s reckless. He leaves them exposed to the obvious danger and chaos that’s surrounding them without any hesitation. Their safety isn’t a priority for him, his emotions are. Every action he takes is driven by impulse, not protection. he’s so consumed by his own storm that he forgets they’re standing in it too. That kind of neglect is its own form of abuse.
