Why Did You Break into My Laptop? – A Mystery Behind an Unknown Intruder’s Gaze

**Diary Entry 12th March**

*”What the hell are you doing on my laptop?”* Alex snapped, looming over Emily. She’d never seen him like this before.

Emily had just come home from school when she caught the heavy stench of alcohol in the hallway. A loud snore rumbled from the living roomher father was drunk again. She walked straight past, into the kitchen.

Her mother stood at the sink, peeling potatoes. Hearing footsteps, she turned. Emilys sharp eyes caught the red, swollen cheek instantly.

*”Mum, we need to leave him. How much more can we take? Hell kill you one day,”* Emily said bitterly.

*”And go where? Whod want us? We havent got the money for rent. Dont worry, love, he wont kill me. Hes a coward. Only brave enough to hit me.”*

The next morning, strange noises woke Emily. She crept to the kitchen and saw her father at the stove, head tilted back as he drank straight from the kettle. She watched, hypnotised, as his Adams apple bobbed up and down. The gurgling sound of liquid sliding down his throat made her stomach turn. *”Choke. Please, God, just let him choke.”*

But he didnt. He set the kettle down with a satisfied sigh, gave her a bleary-eyed glance, and shuffled past to the bathroom.

Emily grimaced, knowing her mother would refill that kettle without washing it firsttainted with his spit and the stink of whiskey. She scrubbed it hard with a brush, vowing never to drink from it unless cleaned properly.

That winter, Emilys class went on a three-day trip to Manchester. When she returned, her mother was in hospital.

*”Did he hit you?”* Emily asked sharply, eyeing the bandages.

*”No, love. Slipped on the ice.”*

But Emily knew she was lying.

Years of blows to the head had left her mother with high blood pressure. Six months later, she had a stroke and died. At the wake, her father wept drunkenlysometimes mourning his *”darling Margaret,”* other times cursing her name.

He told Emily she was just like her mother, threatened to kill her if she ever tried to leave. Emily counted the days until graduation. She skipped prom, collected her diploma in secret, and while her father was at work, packed her things and fled.

He gave her money for food, but she saved most of it, even pinching extra from his wallet while he slept. It wasnt much, but enough to start over. Shed long decided work came firststudies could wait.

She wasnt afraid hed find her. The whole neighbourhood knew his habits; no one would help him track her down. She moved to London, rented a cheap flat on the outskirts, and got a job at a fast-food joint. They helped with her food hygiene certificate, gave her free meals.

When they found out she was studying bookkeeping, they put her on the till.

The lads tried flirting. *”Theyre all sweet at first, then they start drinking or cheating. Dont fall for pretty words, girl. I was young once too. Your father didnt drink when we met. We were happy. What happened?”* Her mothers warnings echoed in her mind. Emily ignored them all.

Payday meant stocking uppasta, rice, tinned goods, whatever would last. Her father drank his wages, but there was always food on the table, even if it was plain. Now, Emily did the same.

One evening, hauling a heavy bag, she nearly collided with a bloke glued to his phone.

*”Sorry,”* he said, looking up.

She meant to snap but faltered at his warm smile.

*”Salright, wasnt looking either,”* she murmured.

He offered to help. Reluctantly, she handed over the bag. No one that kind-eyed could be bad. They talked. Alex walked her home, though she wouldnt let him to the door.

Next day, he *”just happened”* to drop by her work. They started seeing each other.

Alex was honestdivorced, with a little girl he adored. Hed left his ex the flat, crashed at a mates. *”Married too young. We had nothing in common. Days would pass without a word.”*

He talked often about his daughter, and Emily thoughtmaybe a man who loved his kid was safe. A month later, he suggested moving in together.

*”Lets get a proper place, closer to town. Easier, sharing bills.”*

Emily agreed, dizzy with hope. A normal family at last.

Their new flat was spacious. They celebrated quietly, dreaming of the futuretwo kids, he said. A boy and a girl. Emily dared to believe it.

Alex paid two months rent upfront. The third month, his tone changed.

*”Had some unexpected bills, love. Just till payday…”*

Then came the late nights. The smell of lager. The shouting.

Tonight, she caught him on her laptop. His red-rimmed eyes flashed when she asked why.

And then*crack.*

The pain was sharp, familiar. But this time, Emily didnt freeze. She packed a bag while he slept, took the emergency cash shed hidden.

The hospital was quiet. The midwife placed her son in her armstiny, fragile. Born too soon, but alive.

Now, standing outside their old flat one last time, she whispered to the sleeping baby in her arms:

*”Well be alright, my love. Far away from all this.”*

**Lesson learnt:** Some promises arent worth keeping, but the ones you make to yourselfthose, you fight for.