Father started to walk towards me. The slight stumbles in his step told me that he had been drinking. He grabbed the poker from the fireplace. He angrily made his way to me, occasional angry mutters were enough for me to flinch. Once he was a couple of stones length away, he made a swing at me. It missed me horribly, but a scream did escape my lips. He went to swing again, this time surely to hit me. My magic acted at that moment, launching him backwards and hitting the far wall. He landed in a thud and remained still.