Lisa's P.O.V.
"Dad, stop! You'll kill him." I pulled at his arm to no avail, having to watch him beat Lucas in front of me.
Lucas was bloody and bruised. The bridge of his nose was gushing blood from the deep wound. His eye was swollen shut, and his cheek was double its size. His head dangled as dad held him up by the shirt.
"He won't die," Dad argued, hitting him again.
I yelled, begging for him to stop. I kept trying to stop him, to make him turn his attention to me, but he refused. He continued to beat Lucas in front of me even when I placed myself between them. His fist went through me as if I were an apparition, hitting Lucas in the face again and leaving me unscathed.
"Lisa!" I felt a firm hand on my shoulder, shaking me awake. "Lisa, wake up. It's just a dream. You're okay.
