The Wild Escape

Part 3- War of Words

I came home from school with the same facial expression as I always have: a blank frown. But inside, I was smiling because I finally made a friend. The moment I tried to rush upstairs to do my homework then practice my guitar and singing then listen to music, my parents, who were sitting on the couch, caught me.
          "Hey, Katrina. How was your day at school?" Mom asked.
          "It was okay," I answered.
          "Come here, talk to us, Kat," Dad said, directing me to the couch.
          I rolled my eyes and sighed, annoyed, and sat down as far away as I could from my parents. I hung my MCR-themed backpack on the chair directly behind where I was sitting.
          "Why'd you roll your eyes at us and sit far away from us? That's rude, you know. You should come sit near us more," Mom said.
          There's a good reason I'm alone in my room all the time and choose not to be near my parents most of the time... "I'm sorry. I'm fine here," I said.
          "Well, okay," Dad sighed. "Anyway, tell us about your day."
          "It was okay. It was just the same as every other day, I guess. I just have some pre-calculus homework, that's all," I said. But it wasn't the same as every other day, because I became friends with Sam.
          "Are you sure it was just a normal day? Because it doesn't look like it. You're so sassy and rushed tonight. Tell me. What happened today?" Mom wondered, skeptical.
          "Okay, I'll tell you. I'm sorry for lying the first time. But, I finally made a friend at school today," I reluctantly answered.
          "Good for you. Wait... you didn't have any friends before?" Dad asked, rude.
          "Well, no, but I do now," I replied.
          "I see why you didn't have friends before! It's because you never talk! You're so shy, so you're rude, and you just need to talk to people to make friends. I'm surprised!" Mom yelled.
          I jumped back farther into my seat, scared of Mom now. She's basically supporting me never having friends at all. "I would try to talk to people if they weren't so mean to me every time they see me," I mumbled.
          "Well, I think I know why they're mean to you. You set yourself up for that meanness. It's because you're so shy and because all you do is wear black and act all emo!" Dad shouted.
          I just sighed angrily and zoned out of the quarrel instead of saying anything.
          "Tell us about this friend, Katrina. Is he emo and shy just like you are? If so, then you should stop being friends with him. He must be arrogant and sassy like you are if he's also emo. Sassy and arrogant, shy little emos who are just like you are the only people who'd support you! I really wonder why people are like that. They must be psycho," Mom explained.
          I groaned heavily, mad at Mom for immediately stereotyping people like me. "He's not just like I am," I lied impulsively. "He just saw me sitting alone at lunch today and offered to join me. He's a genuine and nice person. His name is Sam, and we just started talking about our interests to get to know each other, and we're getting along well! We're both musicians and singers. He's nice, unlike every other kid in school! He's awes-"
          "Well okay, then. I'm surprised that someone who's not like you would become your friend!" Dad replied, becoming angrier and angrier.

Did Dad just side with my bullies? It seems as if both my "parents" are supporting the bullies in school and degrading me. I think my parents hate me... I know there's something wrong with me, but it's not me being "arrogant, shy, sassy, and emo." Instead of crying in front of them to show that they hurt me, I simply said, "I was surprised at first that no one would be my friend, too. But hey, look at me now. I have a friend. I only ever saw him today at lunch, and he's nice to me! Just let me go upstairs and finish my homework now, please!" I couldn't control myself anymore; I began to angry-sob.
          Mom ran over to me and started to yell in my face: "stop crying, NOW! Start toughenin' up! People would like you if you would wear more colors and if you were more social! Start changing yourself to be a better person!" She then slapped me HARD in the face. It hurt so bad that it made me cry even more.
          I tried to escape up to my room and lock my door, but Dad quickly dragged me back and harshly pushed me back onto the couch. They kept on attacking me with another war of words, degradingly pointing at me and physically attacking me for being "emo." They told me that I would never be successful or good enough for anyone as they hit me in various parts of my body and punched me hard in the gut.
          Maybe this is what I deserve for not being social enough, not paying attention to my surroundings, and ignoring all the good friend-making opportunities I had through all these years. Maybe I don't have a goal or a purpose in this life. Maybe I am worthless. Maybe I am arrogant and sassy. Yeah, Mom and Dad yelling at me like this CERTAINLY helps rid me of my depression... UGH. Maybe I don't deserve to have any friends at all. But I have my reasons for being arrogant. They think that, because they're the parents, they get to control my every move, word, and action. No. They're in the wrong for reprimanding me for being myself and for not actually helping me with my depression. These bands I listen to, mostly My Chemical Romance, have helped me feel better and have helped me so much more than my own parents ever have. I need Keeley back.
          After five minutes, they stopped physically attacking, but they strengthened the war of words. Mom then said something extra-mean: "You should be more like your sister! At least she's successful, going to college, getting a job, and not wearing black all the time! You, however, are a disgrace to this family."
          I cried more and more, and then I tried to defend myself and Keeley: "Yes, I know she's being successful, going to college, and working a job. I'm proud of her for that! She is wonderful, sweet, and dedicated to what she does, and I'm happy about that! But don't you DARE compare me to her! She would not like the way you guys are treating me right now. She's the only one I personally know, besides the new friend I made today, who has EVER supported me, respected me, accepted me for who I truly am, and loved me, and she still does. If it wasn't for her, I would NOT be alive today due to being so lonely!"

I cried more angry tears as I picked up my backpack, sprinted upstairs to my room to put down my backpack and stay there the rest of the night with my music. The moment I opened my music library, Dad screamed at me: "GET BACK DOWN HERE NOW!"
          Despite my urge to ignore him, I obeyed because of the fear of being abused again. I closed out of my music library, turned off my phone, and put it back in the zip-up pocket of my leather jacket. I then walked back downstairs, worrying about what was to come.
          "What now?" I wondered, rolling my eyes and wiping away tears.
          Mom rolled her eyes back at me, staring me down dirtily. "'What now?' Stop sassing me, you arrogant little girl! Your bands, your stupid and satanic bands, made you that way! I will take away your phone if you keep this up!"
          I couldn't help but angry-cry and roll my eyes again. "You don't understa-"
          "Oh, yes I do understand!"
          "No, you don't!"
          "Yes, I d-"
          "Before you go on, please let me speak!"
          Both Mom and Dad gasped in shock. "You? Speaking? I never thought this day would come!" Dad shouted.
          "Well, it did. These bands saved my life, and they continue to do so. Their lyrics make perfect sense and relate to my daily life and how I feel. They tell me I'm beautiful and that I'm worthy and strong. These bands are there for me when no one else is; all I have to do is put in my earbuds and click the play button in my music library. They motivate me to keep going with my life and to be a good person, even when I'm feeling at my worst and like I'll never be able to get better. Plus, I just happen to love the pop punk/alternative rock sound. The band members themselves are extremely kind and inspirational people who help us fans cope with our problems, according to the videos I've watched. Again, I WOULD NOT BE HERE IF IT WEREN'T FOR THEM!" I'm so out of breath now that I can barely get any words out anymore.
          "Okay, but don't listen to them around us! We still don't wanna hear it. I'll delete all your music if we do hear it again," Dad said.
          "Alright, fine. Might just take the car and drive far, far away. Who knows?" I blurted out.

I took my driver's test and earned my license five months ago. This was after my parents forced me to take Driver's Ed and learn how to drive. I never wanted to take Driver's Ed or take the responsibility of driving until I actually took the class and passed the test. I thought about how I could drive anywhere at anytime to get away from this horrible home life. All I want to do is pack a suitcase, my backpack, my guitar, and everything else I'll need and drive away to my sister's house near her college campus, which is eight hours away. I might not ever come back here. One of the few things I can thank my parents for is making me learn to drive. The other thing I can thank them for is actually giving birth to Keeley (and I guess me, too, but I don't know about that right now). Other than that, I don't like them right now.

"Well, I hope you don't do that because we need you here so we can turn you into a better person than the one you are now!" Dad yelled, slapping me in the face again.
          "You mean, keeping me held as a prisoner in this house and torturing me into the person you want me to be,"  I blurted out. I didn't thoroughly think that through.
          "Mom" and "Dad"  both gasped in horror, scaring me half to death.
          Mom screamed so loud, nearly bursting my eardrums out of existence. "Katrina Mars! How dare you?! We do this for your benefit so you can become a better person and break away from the dumb bands that do nothing but hurt you!"
          "Mom, I just explained what those bands, those HEROES, do for me. You don't understand, Mom! Or, should I even call you that anymore?!"
          She gasped in horror at me again, her eyes and face a bloody red. "Get out of this room; I never wanna see you again. I raised you, so you must respect me at all times. You didn't."
          "Fine, I'll gladly leave. You never respected me, though! You've been so controlling, unsupportive, rude, and flat-out mean to me ever since Keeley left for college. Keeley actually cares about, supports, and loves me. I can go move in with her. Bye!" I rolled my eyes at them, rushed upstairs to my room, and took a few minutes to cry and let out all the anger and darkness I had left.