The safe house

Every day, there is no end. My parents were fighting, once again. I need to leave. There is no choice. Why am I put through this terrible feat? I drive away as far as I can until I realize that the safe house is there. It is the house of my grandparents. I go inside to say a prayer and shed a tear, and see my grandparents standing there. I ask why must this happen? Twice before, I have seen two not get along. What is it about this time that makes it feel so wrong? 

I could not go, I had to stay. The house was peaceful and warm. There was no arguing, no disruptions in the safe house. I can say whatever is on my mind. There will be no judging, no distraught feelings will fill my head. The warm hug of grandpas pig paws was enough to make me want to never leave. The baking of grandma was not the best, but I did not care. All I know is that she tried. It is hard to make someone feel better when they're down. But these two could do it better than a clown. 

We would talk and talk. It didn't have to be sad. We would talk about football and how each of our teams is bad. I would help grandpa fix things even though I could not. It is the laughter that always makes me feel at home. Even when I messed up, I did not feel alone. I love seeing him every time I can. As the home life dies down and settles into a new beginning, I will always know the safe house is open, whenever I need it.