All I ask

|| 02 ||

The school has ended and as I had predicted I was going to be walking home alone. It was nice to have a certain person walk with you. At least, during these times that didn't seem like every path you take felt the same. Not every path felt as if it was meant to be lonely, but life seems so unpredictable. It is times you think you could be better, meet someone better, isn't that what keeps me going? Possibly. 

I looked around and my eyes glanced over at a particular area. Yes, a small playground that was for younger kids. Nevertheless, the swings help that gift of reaching towards the sky without trying. Walking past the park only made me realize that the small singular slide was supposed to be blue, not red right? I shook my head as I was probably wrong. I slightly stumble onto the pavement as I tried walking away. A sense of deja vu sent my body in a wave of panic. With my hands on my knees, I kept sucking in the air only for it to be released a few seconds later. 

Please, just leave me alone. My thoughts slowly blurred together like my thoughts. Keep it together. Once my body felt a bit better, my steps started to spread apart. It was kiddish of me but it kept my mind focused. 

As I walked I remember not to step on the cracks in the hope that the ground below me wouldn't just break open. Yes, it was childish but I still did my best to keep up the little hopes that tended to be broken down. 

A droplet fell and then another. It slowly dyed the ground a darker shade and the green seem to be brighter. Could it be that nature knew it was taking its shower? Letting the trouble just run off into places that didn't need to be found either through its depths into the earth or hidden in cracks. 

It didn't matter that I was soaking wet. It probably looked like an abandoned wet dog on the street. My feet stopped right in front of the door of a cursed place. It couldn't call it home anyway because how could it be home? It was a place made of mixed emotions. it made the memories but it couldn't keep what those memories held. 

I looked to throw the window, fogging up the glass a little as I peeked inside. I wanted to see if they were home through the white-laced curtains that were tied a little to the side. There I see the petite little woman in the kitchen and a man lazed out on the couch watching the T.V 

My parents are two different people. Possibly could be the environment of being relaxed but I have my doubts. How couldn't they just get along? If they just stay together cause I am an excuse what is the point? 

My head started to pound. It caused me to tumble in the house causing the eery quiet house to seem to cut through its tension. The light seemed to dim once I entered. The only people in the house had to abruptly stop what they were doing. 

"You are late" My father's gruffly voice spoke out. I could tell he wasn't so happy with it. 

"You're wet. Go change and come eat" My mother didn't comment on his statement. She just didn't want to acknowledge him in a sense. It helps her cope with the idea of marriage possibly. 

I walked over to my room. It was best to just keep quiet. The more you minimize the existence the more everyone is able to keep the peace. The home was a place I walk on eggshells I hope I find a way to live. 

I am living or at least I know I am breathing. After all, this is survival, wasn't it? 

My parents are those who have been very harsh on me. There are times I don't think I could ever understand that there is more to life than I have right now. Is there a possibility I could just discover that there was more to this than now?

I couldn't face myself nor the people who have been giving me something to live upon. I can't help but just have wishful thinking. 

I tore off all of my clothes only to just faceplanted onto my bed. It must be a little hard for me to breathe but it didn't seem to matter at the moment. The cold air set shivers down my spine. I didn't want to get up to put on some clothes. 

I just wanted to rest. I wanted to sleep and just let go of this wall that felt like it was placed in front of me. With a frustrated sigh, I got up to throw on some clothes. I need to go to dinner. It wasn't all that exciting though. 

Again, another sigh escaped my lips as I tipped towed down the stairs. I didn't even know I was holding my breath either. Just seeing the food placed neatly on the dinner table seemed so much like a lie. 

I took my usual seat next to mother. However, my eyes stayed on my plate with and occasionally would look up to pick up a few side dishes. There were a few things that were different must be the groggy heavy breath father was having. It was as though he was trying to hold back a few things. 

"I'm sick and tired of eating the same thing," He said his voice filled with this type of frustration that seemed like it was held for years. Why did he act like this? Could he be so filled with hate that he had to point something out every time? My head slowly prepares for its flight or fight response. My body was jittery a little as I knew what would happen next. 

My mother glanced at him but it never lingers. She just visibly slumped her shoulders as she continued eating. It was as though she could care less, but I knew that she was slowly being pushed off an edge. She didn't want to pay attention to the grumpy male in front of her. Her mood was had already sunken, and she didn't need him to complain more about their expenses. It wasn't only going to be expenses soon enough. 

It was pretty visible that my mother was having a hard time. Even though she is having a hard time she simply gave up on the idea of mending it. 

My father didn't like that he was being ignored making him raise his voice. It was as if he needed attention. Still, I had slightly flinch back as I covered my ears. It was starting again...

"Can't you be a better wife?!" He yelled as he pointed at her with accusation. My mother was in shock that he had to bring this up again. What has she ever done wrong? It was probably the question that was floating around in her head. 

"Can't you stop spreading all of our money on stupid hobbies?!" She voiced back her voice cracking a little. It didn't hold as much power as my father. He continued to roar about how he felt as though he was treated unfairly. 

My mother had scoffed right in front of him. She placed her utensils down as she looked at him. This time it wasn't a glance but direct eye contact. This was going to be very bitter for both of them. 

 My natural instinct was to go hide. Yes, this happens so often that it had become a daily routine but even then it couldn't hide the scars of the past. 

When I was younger I had wanted to help mend the relationship between my parents. It was hard to sleep when the night was filled with yelling, screaming, and the breaking of objects. My little feet would run in between my parents. With tears threatening to fall from my eyes, I stood with my back straight and yelled on top of my lungs for my parents to stop. They didn't listen to me. 

Soon they targeted me instead. I had to crouch into a ball in front of my parents. It was as though I needed to shield myself from the bullets they were hitting me with. I used my hair as curtains because back then my hair would fall past my shoulders. I would quietly beg them to just leave this be, but it trifle to even care. I was falling apart. 

My parents never did stop to care.

I squeezed my eyes shut again once they started turning the pitch higher as they ignored me. It was as though they needed to get something across. It was as if they didn't have a kid. 

I could never understand where they were coming from sometimes. I couldn't see where they stood because they could have separated a long time ago. Was this love? Could this be love? If this was love then what is hate? 

I left my plate there in the kitchen. I couldn't stomach the food.  They were going to start this fight again which means this was the time they were too occupied to care where I was. I packed some cash with me. It was some time I was able to gather to myself. 

I could go see the person who gave me a sort of purpose.