"Aviana where do you think you are going", my mother shouted at me as I grabbed my keys.
"Away, from you.", I snapped
"You are 17 years old and still live under my roof, so turn around and go to your room", she shouted again.
"For someone who treats me like she wants me dead, it's hilarious to hear you telling me to stay", I scoffed as I walked out, purposely slamming the door behind me.
To anyone other than me, I probably sound like a brat or just a rebellious teenager. However, behind closed doors, there's much more to it.
I don't like saying I hate my life, because i'm still breathing and there are people out there who love me. However, my life has not experienced positivity in awhile, to say the least.
3 years ago, my dad was killed instantly in a car accident. He was turning when a car ran through a red light, hitting my dad head on. The driver of the other car was on his phone, and did not look up in time.
My parents were truly in love. They were the basic high school sweethearts. The ones that always won prom king and queen. They were the quarterback and head cheerleader couple. They were the perfect movie couple, but they worked and they never let the other go.
After the accident, my mother went into a state of depression. After she got tired of sitting in the corner of her room for a year, she picked up drinking and smoking. She wanted to find something to fill the void that remained in her. Unfortunately what came with the alcohol and drugs, was abuse. She constantly yelled at me, she's hit me constantly. I've had countless bruises from the aftermath of our arguments.
Fortunately, she never laid a hand on my little sister, Tessa. Tessa is 7 and needless to say, I became her parent after we lost ours. I'd always get her up in the morning, make her breakfast, packed her lunch, helped with her homework, I did and still do everything for her.
When my dad left, so did my mom. She was physically there, but her head wasn't. I really only had Tessa left. All my grandparents have passed, and I only have one aunt, who is currently overseas for the military. After the first two years, I got used to it. Taking care of Tessa became an instinct, but so did expecting to get hit. If taking a hit meant sparing my sister one, then i'd do it everyday.
I walked out the house, getting into my car. I backed out and drove to the airport which was only 15 minutes from my house. I sat in the parking lot watching the planes take off, reaching insane heights quickly. Many people have their own "safe place", whether it may be a hidden lake, an old park, or even the beach; Mine happens to be this.
The faint sound of "Wide Eyes" by Local Natives was radiating throughout the car from my radio as I watched the sun begin the show across the horizon. It was peaceful, it was one of the few things that expressed the little of happiness within me that I don't appreciate enough.
I clicked the button on my phone which revealed the time, "6:17". My mother and I's fight began around 530 due to me waking up to get a shower, and she had just gotten back from who knows where. School starts in a little over an hour so i head back to my house to get myself as well as Tessa ready.
