Midnight Musings

7/7/16

It was supposed to be a normal day. You picked me up from school and drove me home in silence-as usual. But when the car reached the driveway, you suddenly had things to discuss. I refused. I ran up to my room in palpable anxiety and found it was ransacked. My bed had been pulled from the wall. My drawers emptied. My miniature seat cushion emptied. My closet a mess. I felt violated. Vulnerable. Exposed.

My room was supposed to be my safe place, and how dare you take that away. Again. It doesn't feel like home any longer and I don't want to go in. You broke your promise. You told him-let him in-as if it were your right.

I hope you know that because of you the gears of my bike are held together by hyperventilating lungs gasping for air, and that the answers for my final won't be circled in pen because my tears have marked every circle I wanted to fill in. I am sick to my stomach. I will never forgive you.

This is why I don't trust you. I never will. You took away my safety and control and without that I am no longer grounded. I am floating away and you are watching because you're the one holding the fucking ground.

And yet, perhaps if I floated far enough, if I turned away from the hell I live in, I would no longer need the ground.

I'd be buried beneath it.

•10:39pm