please stop arguing. please stop the shouting that I come home to each and every night. please stop the bitter comments, the childish remarks, the unnecessary hate.
How do you think it feels, to come home every night to somewhere that can no longer feel like home? to arrive at the front door, the sounds of raised voices already audible through the walls? to come back to somewhere full of hate, and fear, and sadness?
Can’t we just take times back to how they were? Can’t we just pretend that things are OK, like in the family photos? Can’t we just ignore that there are problems, at least until my sister and I have completed our educations are out of the house?
Why bring me into it? Why am I suddenly a poisonus weapon that you can use to silence one another? Why is it that once my name is mentioned, there’s a deadly hush?
How is it fair? How is it fair that the only escape I get are the few quiet hours at night, when the house is asleep but i’m lying awake, worrying, scared, frightened? How is it fair that I live in a house which is just that: a house, not a home?
Have you really not realised why I go out so much? Have you not figured out why I sign up to every afterschool club I can, every school trip, every residential break? Or why I go to see friends who live so far away that I have to stay at least one night? or why I travel so much by train, to stay out of the family car trips?
It’s to escape.