Broken beer bottles and dirty laundry littered the floor of that cold place they called home. A young girl restrained by the cruel words of those who were near, a teenage boy rebelling for the sheer recognition, a family shattered by the choking clutch of alcohol.

I often wondered, “Why me, why us?!” It seemed as though Zeus himself had thrown one of his mighty lightning bolts to shatter the foundation of our home, but had there ever been a foundation, had they ever cared, ever loved?

I had to leave, to get away from the strong hands, the loud voices, the shattered glass, so out I went, out into the cold, dark night. No one to comfort me, nothing to keep me warm, no safety, though I should be used to this by now. I crawl into the crimson tube at the playground and sleep, sleep peacefully for the first time in my life. No yelling, no slammed doors, no pain. Just the same cold shivers I’ve always felt at home…