The calloused palm of the dark haired man connected with the frail girl's cheek, sending her to the ground.

"Papa, I'm sorry."

"Sorry means you won't do it again, how many times have you tried to steal food this week?"

"Three times now, papa" the brunette whimpered.

"And it's only Wednesday! Do you really think you need it, you fat bitch!"

"I promise papa, I won't do it again!"

The man fisted her shirt collar, pulling her to his bulky six foot frame and shaking her.

"You better not."

He swung a fist, catching her in the eye socket and she knew it would leave a flowering bruise, that would be ripe the next day.

Just in time for school, she thought.