coping ; joshler

four

i climb through the window and into my room. it's six in the morning and the sun is just making it light enough to see. my room looks unchanged, thankfully.

i shut the window and turn my light on to find some clothes.

"where the hell have you been?" seven asks, his voice soft but obviously angry.

i turn around to face him. his eyes are so dark.

"i-i was just out with brendon," i mumble.

"you were supposed to come home."

"i'm sorry, seven, but it was late and i just wanted to sleep." my head starts to hurt as seven moves closer.

"it's my job to make sure you're safe! not his!" he grabs my wrist tightly and i can feel tears start to prick my eyes.

"i'm sorry!"

"you're so stupid, tyler! maybe i should just let your mom hurt you!"

"p-please no!" i'm shaking by now, trying to pull my wrist away and failing miserably.

"pathetic," he spits then finally lets go. "get out of here."

wiping at my eyes, i look up, confused. "what do you mean?"

"get out of here. i don't want to see you right now."

"b-but i just got home..."

"go, tyler." his voice gets deeper.

without another word, i grab my clothes and walk out. i quickly change in my bathroom, noting my very worn down appearance, and leave.