Glass house

-1- Only Street Lights Notice Me

        Quietly, I sat on my bed trying to be quiet, drowning out the sound of my crying by biting my hand as hard as I could. He did it again, my dad. His voice rang in my head as a memory,

        “Honestly, you’re such a disappointment. I want you gone, I can’t afford a basket case anymore.” He told me, not a trace of regret in his voice. I squeezed my eyes shut, allowing tears to roll down my cheeks. He does this all the time, and I let him. My mom died a few years ago, he blames me. She used to defend me, but now she can’t and I’m wide open for him to hit and yell at. A sudden surge of anger hit me. I angrily threw a bag on my bed, throwing all my clothes inside it. My dad barged into my room.

        “What do you think you’re doing!?” He screamed, lurching to stop me from packing.

        “Leaving!” I screamed, grabbing all the clothes I could get before he practiacally laid down on my bed.”

        “Conor Claire Mabry you are not going anywhere!” He sternly spat.

        “Wanna bet?” I yelled, running out the door with my clothes in my hand. I made it down the stairs before I heard his loud footsteps close behind me. Quickly, I ran to the counter and picked up my car keys.

        “Conor you better fucking stop or I’ll-“ He began. I stopped, my hand on the doorknob.

        “you’ll what? Hit me? Already done that one dad! I’m not scared of you. Goodbye.” I spat, opening the door and running to my car. I quickly got in, started it, and drove away from my house where my dad still stoof screaming at the street. The L.A summer sun hit my eyes as I drove, making it even harder to se through my tears. Still, I kept driving, praying I didn’t hit anyone.

        After a few hours of driving, I reached my destination, Grandma’s. I walked up the cobbler stone stairs to her porch and rang the doorbell. My grandfather answered the door, shock plastering her face as I tearfully asked if I could come in.

        “Please do come in Conor, What’s wrong?” He asked, his hands on my shoulders. He lead me to the couch and got me some tissues.

        “Thank you.” I said, accepting the tissue box. I took a tissue and blew my nose as he sat in the rocking chair in front of the couch.

        “He kicked me out.” I blankly stated.

        “He what?” My grandfather screamed, standing up.

        “He told me he couldn’t afford a ‘basket case’ anymore and that I was a dissapointment.” I told him, tears brimming my eyes once again.

        “Oh baby girl.” My grandpa sadly cooed, coming over to hug me.

        “What am I going to do?” I asked him, hugging him.

        “You can stay here until you figure it out.” He comforted me.

        “No, I know Grandma is sick. You need to be with her in the hospital.” I reminded him. My grandma was diagnosed with breast cancer a few weeks after my mom died, things weren’t looking good.

        “Then what are you going to do?” He asked.

        “I can’t go to his side of the family. I love them, but they’d probably call him.” I thought out loud. “I can call foster care.” I uncertainly suggested.

        “Just cause I’m not here doesn’t mean you can’t stay here.” My grandpa suggested.

        “You really want me to stay here?” I asked, tears of gratitude shining through my eyes.

        “Of course Conor bear.” He smiled, hugging me. “Now I’m gonna pack a bag. I’m staying at the hospital for a few days, she has a surgery coming up and I want to be there every second I can.” He kissed my head, walking to his room. I looked down to my phone to check what shift I’m working tomorrow. Mid-day and closing. So basically, I’ll be getting home at 1 am. At least they let me close by myself though. To be honest I find the silence of the store relaxing, it’s a good place to think.

        As night came I decided to go to bed at around midnight after dropping off my Grandpa at the hospital. I fell asleep almost instantly after putting my head on the pillow of my grandpas pillow, dreaming about everything that’s happened and what’s to come.