My friend

I can't take it anymore. The yelling, fighting, cussing, spitting, and hitting. The hatred in this house has seeped into the floors like a pool of blood dripping through the cracks into the darkened basement. So many lies and secrets are hidden down there. It's been an eternity and I still struggle with the everyday reality of it. The only reprieve is when you are home. The others all quiet down when you walk in the door. I don't know if they are afraid or if they are jealous. I am neither. In fact, I love you. You are my only friend. I find peace and solace in your presence and have often taken to following you around. I talk to you and at times, it seems like you are listening, and that for a moment, I'm not dead.

It only happens when you're not here. I have to relive the agony of being locked away in a house full of tormented souls who are both too stubborn to cross. Instead, they battle each day, and it's just as gruesome as the last day we were all alive. At the end of it all, I have to watch as the anger turns towards me. I have to watch as I die again and again and again.

I can't wait for you to come home.