The home I grew up in was once of subtle yellows and green- moms favorite colors. When dad came home yelling that September night the walls caved in. Our home was broken but not literally so.
Mom and dad would scream while brother and I sat cold, we waited till he was done and we knew mom would be up soon. My bedroom was my safe haven, I had it as my own. Fairy lights dancing along my walls, darkness still crept in. The home I grew up in wasn't charming as it looked from beyond, it was crumbling, held up by Mother and warm tea.