Mother's sitting at the kitchen table, constantly reminding herself why things were what they were...and how things came to be what they are...Thoughts of leaving the family behind for good...dimmed lights, the silence is cut off by the continuous static of the television and shattered beer bottles against the bare floor. Father's drunk and was fired from his job...the anger and hate thrown upon me...I, who's sitting in my corner hugging my knees so tight as if I could almost stop the circulation of blood to my heart...of the blood on my wrists. My mind, buried beneath my dreams and my hopeless fantasies. Alone I yell out to a stranger for help...nothing happens...when all I can do is put on my commercial fake smile and say "there's no place like home."
