Please critique this? It is very important to me.?

“X!”

She heard the short, sharp bark that sounded so like a command. Her heart thudded in her chest and she felt the tremor in her toes. Her vision went out of focus for a brief moment. Curling her hands into a fist, she walked towards the living room. He was standing near the television, with a look on his face that turned the blood in her veins to ice.

“Did you touch my phone? I’ve told you before never to touch anything that belongs to me!”

She cringed inwardly, her heart hammering. “I didn’t touch anything.”

“How many times have I told you? All you do is sit around watching TV and get pathetic grades in school. I’ve provided everything for this family!” This was the beginning of the routine; she was very familiar with it.

I don’t watch TV, you asshole, because you get angry if the channel or the volume has been changed, and my grades are perfectly fine. I will not feel bad. I will not. I will not cry.

“Y! Look at your daughter. Standing here like a shameless *****, while you go around cavorting with your friends!”

X felt sympathy for her mother, but at the moment her head was pounding with the force of many unshed tears and she fought to keep control. He always managed to do it; separate her mother from her. It became a three-way battle, with both her and her mother being dragged along, but separately.

“I’m sorry.” It was meant to sound defiant, and she tried to glare at him. Before she knew it, her cheek was on fire and the force of the slap squeezed out a few tears.

Her mother gasped, and he backed away. He always did, before situation became too dire. No, one could not accuse him of domestic abuse. A few slaps here and there, when absolutely needed, of course.

The door thundered shut behind him, and she sat down on the sofa. Her mother gave her an apologetic glance and went into the room, or the kitchen. It was not safe for the two of them to sit together for long after such an episode.

She swallowed, got up and went into her room.