"I hate you!"
"Fuck you!"
"I'm leaving and not coming back!"
They yelled at each other like that for hours. Mom screaming in dad's face. Dad screaming in mom's face. The abuse came later. My dad started to hit my mom. Things were thrown. Holes were punched into the wall. This was normal. This had been happening for the past eight months now. Over and over.
"Go get Luna!" shouted my dad.
"Leave her alone. Don't fucking touch her!" said my mom. She was trying to hold him back but he just threw her in the corner like she was a puppet. I tried to hide. But I knew I couldn't defend myself against him. By the time I got the window open, it was too late. He yanked me by the back of my shirt, turned me around, then slapped me across the face. I saw him ball his fist out of the corner of my eye. I tried to defend myself but it was useless. With one hit, I was knocked on the floor, unable to get up. I saw the blood staining the carpet beside me. I just lay there, motionless.
"What did you do to her?!" screamed my mom. She had mascara dripping down her face and could barely stand up straight. There were scratches on her face and bruises all over her body. My dad approached her and closed the door behind him. I was still laying there.
When I knew he was gone, I ran for the window. Out the window I went, down the street, around the block. Running, just running. I needed to get far away. I knew my mom would still be getting yelled at and hit, but I couldn't help. She would be glad that I got away. I told myself she was strong and that she could handle it. I knew that wasn't true, but I needed to at least try to believe it. I stopped and sat down under a tree. There was no one around. It must've been at least midnight by now. I had no where to go. I decided to walk down to the park. I laid down on the walkway to the slide and slowly fell apart.
When I couldn't bear the pain anymore, I reached into my back pocket. I felt for the blade. I grabbed it and pulled up my sleeves. The scars were a few days old. I dragged the blade across my wrist and looked at the stars in the sky. Cut after cut. I finally stopped when the blood was dripping down my arm. I pulled my sleeve back up and tried to fall asleep on the walkway. It was extremely uncomfortable, but it was all I had. I knew I needed sleep. Thirty minutes later, I was out. The day was finally over...
