“I’ll buy you something again if you don’t tell your mother,” he said in a flat tone as I heard his keys tinkle with every small movement he made. We were just making our way to the empty street, whose pavement color seem to fade into a colorless light grey. But those words he spoke made my heart race. I was looking down, noticing the unevenness elevations of the concrete and its cracks. Those damaged sidewalks were representing my father, showing off his unstable behavior or so I thought it was. I knew if I denied it’ll get worse, meaning he would get angry at me and would most likely skipped over the pharmacy and go straight to buying his toxic crap. I had to agreed but as I kept agreeing I knew stuff won’t get better. When we finally