How Could This Be Love?

Bitter

I walk home

thinking of Layla

and how perfect today was.

But then

as soon as I open

the front door

and glimpse my father's

expression I knew

that the perfect day

would not last.

"Claudia, we need to talk,"

my father said harshly

his permanently wrinkled and

perpetually frowning face

looking down upon me.

"What is it?" I asked

already knowing that

it was about school.

My father only ever cared

when it was related to

"academic performance."

"You got a question wrong

on your math test," he

growled, his voice rising rapidly.

My father could never

control his temper.

Ever since I was little

I always heard curses

being uttered.

"F*ck your messy sloppy

dumb*ss mother," he would

say while doing laundry.

I always found it ironic

my father quit his job

complained about low income

when my mother was working

and expected my sister

and I to follow

his every command.

My mother tells me

that he's a good man

and I believe her.

Because sometimes life

can make a person

very

very

🄱🄸🅃🅃🄴🅁.

He didn't show empathy

when I was threatened

with a knife at school

because he'd been

through much worse.

"My teacher said that

I already have an A,

so I can't retake it."

I replied quickly

hoping to avoid

the worst of his anger.

Apparently my father

was satisfied because

he simply nodded

and left while

muttering about my

idiotic teachers

under his breath.

I laughed softly.

Classic father move.

I felt my phone buzz

causing me to

jump three feet

into the air.

I checked the colntact

before opening the message.

I snorted when I saw

the image that 

Layla had sent.

It was a picture of me

from elementary school

that Layla's mother had took.

Me in a white flower dress

in the background of the photo.

Suddenly tears welled up in my eyes.

Why am I always ignored?

My points make sense

they are clear and concise

yet people discard them

like garbage.

I glanced towards  the kitchen cabinet

wondering if the medication was working.

Of course it was working

because I wasn't a sobbing mess

on the floor at this moment.

I sighed

turning off my phone

going upstairs to my room

falling face first onto my bed

and letting out a muffled wail.