i sit quietly at the kitchen counter, watching spongebob
i was 10 years old then.
in the next room my parents are fighting with my brother.
they yell, and scream.
i raise my hands to my ears to try and block the noise.
but i couldnt.
my mom tackles my brother to the ground, screaming.
tears streamed down my face and i run.
i ran into my bedroom and crawled under the bed.
but no one came.
i could still hear them screaming.
yelling
they kicked him out of the house.
i cried, and cried, and cried.
but still, no one came.
because. no one cared.
i lied under my bed, hands over my ears, tears rolling down my face.
trying to remember the happy times we spent as a family.
but i couldnt.
i couldnt take them anymore.
i ran outside and up the road.
i ran until my feet couldnt carry me any longer.
and when i finally stopped i sat under a tree.
i listened to the crickets and the trees blowing in the wind.
the night breeze was cold, i wish i had brought a blanket.
but i needed to sleep and it was a place where things were finally silent.
so i slept under that tree, and no one searched for me, because no one cared.
the next morning i woke up.
the sun was shining.
it was a new day.